


In Spite of It

by HiddenEye



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: A Bit of Lore, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Father-Son Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hand Jobs, M/M, Medium Burn, Mutual Pining, Post-Season/Series 02, Separation Anxiety, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 42,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28627188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenEye/pseuds/HiddenEye
Summary: “Let’s say I do have resources on Skywalker,” Boba began. “Even if I give his coordinates to you, even if you get to meet him, the Jedi are persistent in their code. Skywalker will only turn you away.”“Let’s say none of this is your business and I’m doing this on my violation,” Din said, causing Boba to arch his eyebrows in surprise. “Let’s say I know the consequences of me going to wherever Skywalker and Grogu are, but let’s say, for the moment, that something in my gut tells me that I should go find them.”Fennec furrowed her brows. “You’re willing to risk your kid’s training for a gut feeling?”Din couldn’t expect this to happen. All he wanted was to make sure Grogu was in safe hands.Maker, help him, all he could think of was the Jedi who now held his heart.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 119
Kudos: 579





	1. Midday

**Author's Note:**

> First things first: Hello everyone, this is my first dinluke fic, so I’m pretty excited!
> 
> Listen, I never thought I'd be this deep in Mando or Star Wars in general, to the point I started writing fic. So, here it is.
> 
> This fic will be set post s2. It's going to be 6 chapters long, 7 if we’re all lucky.
> 
> For now, I hope you enjoy this!

_noun._ the middle of the day; noon.

  
When Din landed on Tatooine, the first thing he hoped was that Boba was going to be home.

It was dubious at first since the place was barren when he stepped foot into the building. He figured that if anyone wanted to have a job from Boba, they’d at least grace their presence to him personally rather than doing it through a call. Din heard all about the new crime lord now lurking underground, how the few bounty hunters he bumped into had taken jobs from Boba if he wasn’t out doing them himself.

Boba was either out, business was slow, or someone really did make their business through calls. They must have steel balls to do the last option, or they were extremely stupid to present themselves that way.

Cautiously walking down the stairs, Din held onto his blaster, looking out for possible threats that were hidden in what he thought was Boba's absence. From what stories he heard from others, Boba Fett had been in Jabba the Hutt’s service for several years. If his former competitors wanted to overthrow him and take the place themselves, they’d probably do it as a group.

Because doing it alone would be futile. If there was anything Din learned about Boba, it was how he had Fennec on his side and that the two of them could handle an army on their own without breaking a sweat.

Din stopped at the last flight of stairs, a small sigh escaping through his pressed lips when he took in the sight of Boba sitting on the throne with a map opened in front of him. Fennec was on the armrest, pointing at a few places as she muttered out her concerns.

“I doubt you want a job from me,” Boba began as a lieu of a greeting, not bothering to look up from the map as he zoomed on the sector more. Fennec let out a small grunt of dissatisfaction. “Since you have the Guild to do that.”

Din kept his blaster back into its place, finishing his way down the stairs before he shortened the space between them. “You’re keeping tabs on me now?”

“People tell me what I want to know,” This time, Boba, face bare without the helmet, looked around the map to meet Din’s own visor. “Can’t help it I’m curious what’s currently happening to the Mand’alor, even if my messengers don’t know about your current title.”

Din stopped with a couple of feet of space existing between them. Boba and Fennec on the throne had them looking down at him from where he stood; Din let his eyes drop to where the hoop of metal was connected to the bottom of the throne. Thankfully, there wasn’t anyone chained to it. Boba wouldn’t even be dignified with that kind of tradition that came with being Tatooine’s crime lord.

It was almost odd that Boba didn’t tell his little spies that Din had the Darksaber in his possession. But, like Din, Boba wasn’t interested in Mandalore like Bo-Katan was, and he wouldn’t tell anyone else the significance of the weapon, regardless of the fact that he didn’t want to be in Din’s position as well. “I’m not the Mand’alor.”

“Not from what Fennec told me,” Boba nodded to his companion, who had her eyes trained on Din as well. “Not to the princess who kicked her way out of that mess with claws and teeth.” The corner of his mouth hooked up. “I bet she didn’t take it too well.”

“I didn’t want it,” Din insisted with a grunt, remembering the way she stared coldly at the weapon he offered so readily back to her. “I still want nothing to do with it.”

“I know that, too,” Boba told him, taking a long look at Din, who didn’t move under the scrutinisation. “Why?”

“You know why,” Din answered, and the Darksaber was beginning to feel heavy on his hip the longer they were talking about his situation, as if it was reminding him how neglected it was in his refusal to use it. “If I wanted to rule a wasteland with questionable air to breathe, I’d already had Bo-Katan pulling my strings since day one.”

“Instead, she’s avoiding you while you’re keeping her most prized possession with you as a souvenir.”

Din straightened himself, jaw locking. “I’m not here to talk about this.”

“Then, why are you here?” Boba seemed curious then, passing the holographic map to Fennec, who switched it off to have both of their attention. “You wouldn’t want to work for me. I know that for sure.”

“I heard you’re well-acquainted with Luke Skywalker,” Din said, causing Boba to rearrange his posture. His smile was brittle under his helmet; it was obvious Din caught his attention. “And I need to know where he is.”

“You’re going to find him for the Child?” Boba asked carefully, almost disbelieving in his request.

“I just need to know where the Jedi is,” Din diverted his question.

Boba narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think I know where he is?”

“Like I said, you’re well-acquainted.” Din refused to look away from his stare. “Besides, you already have people everywhere, anywhere you want them to be. You’re gonna tell me you don’t have someone in the New Republic who can keep an eye on one of the last Jedi to currently exist?”

Boba didn’t back down from the silent challenge of his gaze, assessing Din thoroughly. While Fennec looked at ease, merely lounging by his elbow, there was no doubt that she would move with her blaster out the moment Boba so much twitched.

“Let’s say I do have resources on Skywalker,” Boba began. “Even if I give his coordinates to you, even if you get to meet him, the Jedi are persistent in their code. Taking children from their families and refusing them access to each other is, to their view, a necessity to the children’s training, since attachment and emotions are their downfalls.” He tilted his head to the side. “Skywalker will only turn you away.”

“Let’s say none of this is your business and I’m doing this on my violation,” Din said, causing Boba to arch his eyebrows in surprise. “Let’s say I know the consequences of me going to wherever Skywalker and Grogu are, but let’s say, for the moment, that something in my gut tells me that I should go find them.”

Fennec furrowed her brows. “You’re willing to risk your kid’s training for a gut feeling?”

Din faltered at her words, before tightening onto his resolve because he was true in _his_ ; there was something in his gut that told him that he should find the Jedi who took his son. Something in his gut told him that he should see Grogu again, or regret was going to be a parasite that would eat him alive until death took him away. 

Din had thought long and hard about this — he even tried to ignore it for the past months that he had been separated from Grogu, but it was useless. Every day, something niggled at the back of his mind, and every day it persisted to the point he couldn’t stop the anxiety spreading through his sternum. 

He had to find Grogu. To get back to him, he had to find Luke Skywalker first.

“If Grogu is in trouble and I wasn’t there because I ignored all the signs that told me I should get to him,” Din curled his fingers into his palms. “I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

Boba sighed, asking for the device from Fennec that she simply dropped it into his palm. Then, he switched on the map again. “Luke Skywalker is not someone you want to underestimate with.”

“I figured,” The warning was well intended, but Din couldn’t make himself care when relief coursed through his veins. He watched Boba typed the coordinates out on the device. “With the show he put on that day.”

Boba let out a soft snort. “He’s a Skywalker. They make it their mission to exaggerate things.” He leaned forward, and Din took a few steps nearer to see the floating planet better. “This is Yavin 4. I heard Skywalker opened his Jedi school at an abandoned base, which was a Jedi temple before that. It’s called the Great Temple.” 

Din watched Boba zoom onto the planet until the picture of the temple floated into place. “A base to what?”

“The Alliance to Restore the Republic, or Rebels, whichever they called themselves. They had to run when they used most of their resources to help take down the Death Star, because, of course, the Empire would retaliate.” Boba hummed musingly. “It was probably abandoned for a while before Skywalker snatched it up and renovated the place to his liking.”

“Is he the only one there?” Din questioned. “Other than Grogu?”

“Yes. No pilots. No fighters. No representative Senators. Sometimes, he’d receive facilities from the New Republic. But other than that, he’s alone with the Child.”

Din nodded, eyes tracing the structure of the temple. Now that he knew where they were, all he needed was to get back to his gunship and make his way to Yavin 4. And then, he could finally ease the troubled feeling he’d been harbouring for the past long months that had passed.

“Thank you.” Then, he looked at Boba. “I’ll find a way to pay you back.”

“Pay me now by answering me this,” The map disappeared when Boba switched it off, and Din was left watching the afternoon sun streaming in between them, lighting up all the scars that threaded across Boba's face. “Why now? Why risk going there for the kid?”

“Because I’m trying to do everything I can to make sure the kid doesn’t get hurt,” Din didn't know why he had to repeat his mission. “I just told you this.”

“He’s training to be a Jedi, and I told you about them and their taboo of feelings,” Boba pointed out. “If the kid’s attached to you, there’s a possibility that he’d get himself involved with the Dark Side if he isn’t careful. I don’t want another Darth Vadar stomping through innocent lives if I can help it.”

“He won’t. I believe he won’t.” Din took a step forward, eyes narrowing. “For someone who couldn’t be bothered with the Jedi, you sure do know a lot of them.”

“They’ve been a pain since the beginning of Mandalorians,” Boba rebutted, and there was almost something he didn’t tell Din, but he didn’t know what. “I couldn’t care less about the Jedi, or the Sith, but if they’re the ones who will always cause imbalance to our galaxy and starting up wars for the pettiest things, then, unfortunately, I’d have to make it my business to know what their next move is to stay alive.” He jerked his head at Din’s way. “And I suggest you do, too.”

“When my kid is already training to be one of them, I just might,” Din nodded at them. “I meant it when I said I appreciate your help. I leave you with your throne now.”

“Any chance of you getting on yours?” Boba called out just as Din turned away. “What are you going to do with that now?”

When Boba leveled his gaze to the Darksaber hanging by his side, Din hid it away with his arm. “If I’m lucky, nothing.”

Boba hummed. “And if it doesn’t come to that?”

Din turned to face him properly. “Then, you’re welcome to duel me for it.”

Boba let out a bout of chuckles. “When you’re going to visit the little womp rat? I’ll pass. If I wanted to get killed by a Jedi, I’d personally ask Skywalker to run his Lightsaber through my head. Besides,” He spread his arms to gesture around the room. “I have a kingdom of my own now. Being a ruler to a corpse planet isn’t on my bucket list.”

Din bit back a smile behind his helmet. “And you think it’s on mine?”

“You were the one who won it off Moff Gideon,” Boba smirked, leaning back against his throne. “Good luck. I think you’ll need it.”

* * *

Din couldn’t help but feel the way his chest tightened when he saw the Great Temple.

It shouldn’t make him feel that way; he faced creatures and other things that were more terrifying than this should ever be, with their teeth and claws and indescribable rage directed at him solely because he was in their way. He hung onto the last thread of life more than once, and had pulled himself up simply because he knew it wasn’t his time to go just yet.

So, why should he feel the same daunting apprehension when he was only visiting his son?

He didn’t even know if he had the right to carry that title with him, not when he had done what was required of the Creed. His mission to bring Grogu to his kind had been successful when Skywalker swept into Moff Gideon’s light cruiser and obliterated the Dark Troopers, before very, very gently telling him that his son thought it was time for Din to let him go.

It shouldn’t make Din clutch onto the handles of the gunship as if his life depended on it, but he forced himself to loosen his grip all the same. Remembering that day still stabbed grief into his chest, and Din thought it would never really go away unless he saw Grogu again with the assurance that their bond wasn’t compromised with time.

He wasn’t implying that Luke Skywalker would have replaced him in title, in relationship, because the Jedi was Grogu’s teacher. He was going to make sure Grogu was able to protect himself in the way it matters, and Din shouldn’t feel as if he had made a grave mistake in giving him that choice.

There wasn’t supposed to be a choice in the first place; Grogu was meant to be with the Jedi. Din was only helping him make his way to join that circle of company, as it should be.

As a father, he had to know what was best for Grogu. As a father, he knew this was the best.

That didn’t explain why he was suddenly so afraid, though.

Din took in the temple coming into view; the Great Temple was tall, levels of huge blocks built from stone and none of the advanced machinery were visible from the outside, with vast acres of trees surrounding the building that they almost act as a barrier between it and the outside world. The hangar doors were already opened, and Din set course to land as he tilted the ship to the side.

He wondered what kind of things they kept in this building. Boba mentioned it to be an old temple for the Jedi to use once upon a time. Maybe there were histories of the Jedi of old, dating far back when they first existed? Maybe there were rooms for them to practice their training, whatever that may be?

Perhaps Grogu had started his? There wasn’t any reason where he shouldn’t be, Din thought. Grogu proved himself to be reliable in using the Force. He had seen it himself, in the few incidences that happened throughout their time together. Surely, Grogu would finally take another step in this road to have a better scope of himself? To finally become the strong person Din knew he was?

Din saw the entrance of the hangar getting closer and quietened his thoughts. He’d know from Skywalker soon enough. Din just hoped he'd be able to see Grogu himself.

When he landed on the ground, the ship hummed and hardly let out the familiar sputter the Razor Crest once did. He tried not to think of that, too. 

Din flicked off the switches, allowing the ship to power down, before he pushed himself to a stand and walked out of the helm with a lock of his jaw, forcing himself to calm down the rumbling thunder churned around his insides.

He saw people walking around the moment the ramp lowered itself down, some of them casting prodding looks at Din as they passed by. They had to be the New Republic, as Boba told him before. Din could see the boxes being carried by the people there.

He took no notice of them. He let his eyes flicker around for an entrance, bypassing all the stacks of crates and the X-wings that were sitting at the sides. It should be suspicious, because Skywalker was supposed to be alone, and even if he did need a ship, he was only supposed to have one. 

Din tried not to think of it more when he saw the door, and made his way out of the ship and towards the one that situated itself at the edge of the clearing.

Eyes bore into him as he walked his way forward, the burn of their gaze following his movements for every step he made. They took in his armour, the helmet, the rifle, and the beskar spear strapped to his back. The Darksaber weighed a ton on the side of his hip that Din was tempted to just throw it into the ship and leave it there, but he knew he couldn’t. It was safer with him, then.

He might not want it, but the heavy knowledge of him as the ruler of Mand’alor sat on his shoulders like an anchor. It was branded on him to the point it was second skin, dragging him down and having him scraped through the mud on the way. 

Din hoped no one would find out and sincerely prayed that it was kept that way until he would force Bo-Katan to take it from him, regardless of the obvious avoidance she had casted between them. He hadn’t seen her since that time on the cruiser — he’d have to find her himself if he had to. The only people who knew were the ones who had witnessed Moff Gideon’s giddy retelling of the tedious rules in wielding the weapon, along with Boba when he deduced the conclusion himself.

Din was almost at the entrance when he realised he had no idea where he was going, and where Grogu and Skywalker might be. He saw a group of people in pilot uniforms near one X-wing and went to them, hoping for an answer.

There were three of them, and they watched Din walk towards their way with widening eyes as they straightened their easy posture into something more wary. “I’m looking for Luke Skywalker,” he started. “Any idea where he might be?”

“Not since early this morning,” one of them said, and she was still looking at him as if he was going to skewer her with the spear. “He was meditating with the padawan, last time I heard.”

“Padawan?” Din questioned, because he was still learning about the Jedi and the terminology they use. Some things were still confusing. Luckily for him, these pilots didn’t look at him like he was an idiot.

“Apparently, General Skywalker already found his first padawan to train. Could explain why he was in a hurry to leave all those months ago and came back with the kid.” Her friend paused, scrutinising Din carefully. “Any business you have with him, Mando?” He continued lightly, whose hand discreetly brushed over the blaster strapped to his thigh as he made a show to hook a thumb onto his belt. Din noticed it all the same and swallowed down a sigh.

“That’s between me and him,” he only said. A flicker of dissatisfaction passed over the young man’s features. “If you don’t mind, I’d like you to tell me where he is and I’ll go find him then.”

“Alone?” The other man asked, and it was obvious they were all uncomfortable at the thought of a Mandalorian seeking out a Jedi or they wouldn’t have to do all of this. “Wouldn’t you want us to escort you to him? It’d be easier for you, and you wouldn’t get lost on your way there.”

“That’s not necessary,” Din answered, trying not to let his annoyance show. 

He was tired. The past months had been draining when he had been scavenging through the galaxy to replace whatever he lost. It was diving back into bounty hunting just to survive and to start another pile of savings. He had been jumping from one planet to another, working and working, getting beaten up here and there on the way.

He was grateful for that. He shouldn’t be, when it just got blood filling his mouth, or had his flesh and clothes singed from blaster hits. It made him stay awake in the middle of the night when he shouldn’t be, not when something under his skin still crawled with the need to _move_ , to hit something.

It never seemed enough, sometimes. If he was lucky, he’d pass out the moment he crawled onto the laid comforters. If he didn’t, he _didn't_.

But, he knew that focusing on the physical strain in his muscles or the way someone’s skull crunched underneath his fist was much easier to bear with. Satisfaction would course through his system after every fight he’d throw himself into, before he packed it up and claimed his reward afterwards.

The Guild seemed to understand his need for secrecy when he didn’t say a word about his one-man-show, but Karga gave one long look at him, pining Din into place while he stared back, before he agreed that whatever it was he had, he’d make sure that Din would be the first to choose from the pile.

“We don’t mind,” the girl insisted, throwing out a small smile in hopes of friendliness. Din just had the feeling they wanted to keep an eye on him in case he killed Skywalker. Which was absurd, since he has seen first-hand how the Jedi was more than capable of taking care of himself.

This time, he didn’t stop the small sigh that escaped, shifting his feet in place. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be f—“

“Mando.”

Din swiveled around at the same time these people do, and stopped in his tracks.

This was only the second time he’d seen the Jedi, with the first being all those months ago. Din had put it into his mind that Luke Skywalker would be someone who would carry himself that begged to earn respect; it was in the way he walked, how Grogu had reached out to him through the screens with awe in his face. It was the way Moff Gideon blanched, terrified when he saw this same Jedi killing his way through the platoon of Dark Troopers with ease.

Din watched him in his dark clothes, his billowing cape, how he didn’t force his way through the doors like the droids did and instead patiently waited for them to open it for him. Din watched how shy and delighted Grogu had been when Luke Skywalker picked him up, and how the Jedi’s determined expression softened when he took in the foundling in his arms.

Now, Skywalker had changed into something lighter, sandy dune tunic and pants along with brown boots, vastly different from the blacks he donned that day. He had a pleasant smile planted on his face, blue eyes alight as he strode over to where Din stood, lightsaber clipped to his hip. He looked open here, different from when he stood at the opposite room of Mandalorians and bounty hunters, stance guarded and closed off from defense.

He looked stupidly young and Din was hit with the fact that this man, this Jedi, was the strongest person to ever exist in the galaxy when he ended the Empire six years ago. 

And now, he was teaching Grogu to become someone like him.

At his peripheral vision, Din saw the pilots give Skywalker a salute, and the Jedi waved his hand dismissively as he stood in front of them. “You know you don’t have to do that. At ease.”

“Protocol, General Skywalker,” the girl reminded him, but they all dropped their hands.

When Skywalker turned to Din, he had to remind himself to blink when the Jedi started speaking to him. “How was your trip?”

Din felt slightly off-guard by how he had to mentally change the image of the Jedi he had in his head, and quickly pushed all that away when he made himself focus on the younger man instead. “Fine. Could’ve gone worse.”

He was also slightly uneasy at how knowing Skywalker looked when he graced Din with another smile, as if he noticed just how wrong-footed Din was by the mere presence of him, but was amicable enough to turn a blind eye to it. “I’m just glad you're here in one piece. I assume Grogu doesn’t know you’re here, or he would’ve told me.”

 _Or I would’ve known,_ was left unsaid. It made Din straighten his back.

One of the pilots snapped his head to face Din. “You know General Skywalker’s padawan?”

“The Mandalorian is his father,” Skywalker replied easily before Din could say anything, as if it really was that easy.

He shot the Jedi a look.

It was as if Skywalker was able to see it and met his gaze head-on, despite the helmet in the way. It made something warm and cold slither down his spine at how his gaze penetrated through his visor like it was nothing. “Come on, I’ll show you to him.”

The declaration left him floundering for a moment as Din stood there, feeling three pairs of eyes drilling the side of his head. He knew what they were thinking when they tried to weave a connection between him and Grogu, but he shook away the trepidation that was threatening to sink into his shoulders. He stepped forward, following Skywalker out of the hangar.

They didn’t speak as they walked down the hallways, carefully moving in between those who passed by them. Din cataloged all the twists and turns they took, hoping that he never had to rush his way out of the place for an emergency exit if the need suddenly arose.

It was when they loaded themselves into a lift, the door closed shut, did Din allow himself to speak.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked in a low utter, looking straight ahead instead of meeting Skywalker’s eye.

“Grogu tells me a lot about you,” the Jedi informed him. “If you think he doesn’t recognise you just because you’ve been away for almost a year, you’re wrong, you know.”

“That’s not it,” Din interjected and it was true — he didn’t think Grogu wouldn’t remember him. It was something else. Something big and ugly and it was twisting inside of him as if it was ready to eat him whole. 

There was a pause, and Din only stared at the door, almost afraid of what he would see on the Jedi’s face if he dared a look at him. “If it’s the bond you have with him you’re worried about, then you shouldn’t be. He knows you’re his father, and he loves you. And I know you love him, too.”

Din licked his dry lips; just a few minutes together and Skywalker was able to read him like a book. But, he wasn’t ashamed at how open he was with his affections when it came to Grogu. He still thought of him as his son, despite the turmoil between what he believed in and what he wanted churned violently inside him.

“The Creed,” Din started hesitantly. “It says I can only be his father until I’ve returned him to his kind. Now that’s happened, having people calling him my son is…” he trailed off, flexing his fingers from where they were hanging by his sides when he was unable to continue his sentence.

That was when the lift brought their arrival to the chosen floor. The doors rolled open and they stepped out. It was all the training embedded in Din at that point when he immediately realised how empty the floor was.

“Maybe,” Skywalker agreed, pulling Din’s attention back to him that he was struck with those bright blue eyes again, resolved hardened in them. “But that doesn’t diminish what you both have for each other. Family is more complicated than that.”

Maybe. Family to Din was whatever memories he had of his parents. Faintly, he remembered his father showing him how to disassemble a toaster and how to piece it back together. He’d tell him how they were always together; he’d show Din that, until the end, for better or worse. He'd show Din what love was when his father looked at his mother with stars in his eyes.

There was a memory of his mother sewing his clothes, talking him through it. _I won’t be here one day,_ she told him, and she said it as a fact, gentle even if the harsh reality of it still hovered above their heads. _And I won’t be able to sew all your torn clothes if you suddenly have a scuffle with someone else. You’re going to learn how._ And she’d show him how to patch a hole in his pants, and tell him which cloth was best made for a cold place.

The Creed was family enough. They brought him up, fed him, and kept him warm. They taught him how to fight, how to handle his own problems, and dissolve someone else’s. They had done what they could to make sure Din survived through the universe, to act on the Creed he vowed his life on when it was his time to run free.

He didn’t think the Creed had complications that might contradict what he wanted until he met the Child. 

“Complicated, huh?” Din asked, and he realised they hadn’t moved from their place just outside the lift. 

Skywalker chuckled, and it surprised Din then, when the Jedi Master clasped a hand on the beskar of his bicep, splayed casually against the piece. He gave him a small pat before moving away. “I know all about family complications, Mando. Trust me on this.”

Din mentally shook himself, feet following his steps as he walked beside him. “Did it work out in the end?”

“It did,” Skywalker confirmed, and there was something wistful there, in the smile that he wore so openly. Din found himself staring at that look when they finally arrived in front of a door.

Immediately, his shoulders tensed, back straightening. Doubt came crashing onto him tenfold, and Din couldn’t help himself from digging his nails into his palms, how he couldn’t take another step without feeling helpless, the metal in front of him the only barrier that separated him from Grogu. 

“You can take your time,” Skywalker assured him, understanding and soft, and Din looked at where he stood with his hands folded in front of him. “I can leave, if you want some space.”

“No,” Din said quickly, before he stopped, mortified at how he sounded. He closed his eyes behind the helmet, collecting himself. “It’s fine.”

When the door opened, so did his eyes, and his heart banged against his chest when he saw Grogu in the middle of the room.

The Child was sitting on a large cushion, eyes closed and hands resting on his lap. There wasn’t any force field like when they were at Tython, none of the light blue beams bursting through the ceiling like a beacon. He was so focused, such a good student to his Master, and Din felt as if the floor was pulled under his feet.

Grogu didn’t move when Din dared take a step forward, a ball of unsaid words rolling in his throat. He swallowed it down, stopping his advances, a good eight feet between them because he couldn’t, he _couldn’t_. Not without feeling as if he had lightning underneath his skin.

He took a small, shuddering breath that sounded too loud in the quiet air around them. “Grogu,” he called out softly.

At once, Grogu’s eyes snapped open. He blinked dazedly, as if woken up from a dream, and when he leveled his gaze onto Din, onto his poor, terrified father, he let out an excited coo, unfolding himself from his position.

There was no stopping how Din fell to his knees when Grogu rushed to get to him, arms open to pick him up and bring him to his chest. “Hey, kid,” Din croaked out, and he felt as if he was about to burst from the whirlpool of emotions pushing at his seams. He let out a breathless chuckle instead, pressing his covered forehead on top of Grogu’s head. “I promised, didn’t I? I told you I’d see you again.”

Grogu cooed again, touching the side of his helmet as he looked up to him; Din was able to see the browns in them, at how adoration filled his eyes as much as the devastating ache sunk its claws into Din’s lungs. 

He brushed a hand down Grogu’s back, relief a palatable thing when he released a heavy breath. “It’s good to see you again.”

That was when Din looked up, and Skywalker was standing against the doorframe with his arms crossed, but a smile was playing on his lips as he watched them both reuniting with each other.

Din felt a rush of embarrassment flooding his body at how he behaved, at how he easily let himself go like that. He stood up, holding Grogu in his arms. “Skywalker, I—“

Skywalker brought up his hand, abruptly stopping Din from talking. “Please, call me Luke. And I know.” 

Din blinked at him. “You don’t even know what I wanted to say.”

When Skywalker laughed, it was surprised and ripped out of his mouth. He pushed himself to a stand and walked towards where they were rooted in the middle of the room. “I know what you’re going to say, and you don’t need to thank me, Mando. He’s your son. I can’t stop you two from seeing each other.”

Din looked at Grogu, when he remembered something that had worry making itself known. He did some research, looking for what it meant to be a Jedi from everyone, asking everything. Din realised one day that he had been living under a rock with how much he didn’t know, especially when it appeared to be common knowledge with others. When he was on Tatooine, Boba had only confirmed his newfound knowledge as well.

And something stood out more among all the knowledge that rattled around his head. “Attachment,” he began slowly, and it made Skywalker stop right in front of him. “It’s forbidden for the Jedi.”

“According to the Jedi Code,” Skywalker confirmed.

It made Din inhale a deep breath. “Will it compromise Grogu’s training?”

“If he doesn’t learn how to control it,” Skywalker said, running a hand over Grogu’s head that the Child turned to coo at him, too. “I think, there’s no harm in wanting to love someone once you know they don’t belong to you entirely. It’s good that you care for someone very much, and would do anything for them. But, there are lines made. Follow them, respect the people you love and the choices they make, and you won’t be a threat to yourself and the people around you.” He smiled. “It’s the reason why the Jedi Code forbids marriage. People tend to be blindly unreasonable the moment the people they love get hurt.”

“That’s,” Din flipped through his head for a word to suit this rule the Jedi had to follow religiously. “That has to be hard.”

“It is. And I think it’s unfair.”

Din met his eyes. “Why?”

“No one can help themselves when they love someone,” Skywalker shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if it’s romantic or not. But that restriction caused more harm than good when the Jedi who were involved always get hurt in the end.” He retrieved his hand, letting it hang by his side. “Which is why I’m going to change it later.”

Din stared at him. “You can change the Jedi Code?”

“Modify some things, if everyone agrees,” Skywalker offered another smile, and this time, there was a tinge of smugness on it. “I think it’d be good for the Jedi Order.”

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Din mused, looking down at Grogu, who only stared back at him with a tilt of his head.

“Not many can,” Skywalker admitted. Then, he gave Din a nod. “I’ll leave you two alone to catch up. I have to see the pilots off the moment they’ve finished unloading everything. And Grogu,” He raised his eyebrows at the kid. “We’ll continue our lessons tomorrow. You’re free to do whatever you want with your father here for today.”

Grogu let out a sound of confirmation, and Skywalker patted Din’s beskar armour again, the same place on his arm. “I’ll see you later.”

“Alright,” Din replied automatically, momentarily blinded by how genuine Skywalker looked before he turned away, walking out of the room with his footsteps hardly heard against the floor under his haste.

Once Skywalker was gone, Din looked down to Grogu, mouth opening to say something, but stopping at the look aimed at him.

There was scrutiny lacing his features, where Grogu had just witnessed him fumbling on his own two feet and did a piss job at keeping in his composure, all while judging Din for being a mess in front of his Master.

Din didn’t know how the kid managed to make such a face to him, but it was making him feel self-conscious all the same. He shifted in place. “Don’t give me that look.”

Grogu let out a slow blink, and Din sighed through his nose. “Do you wanna show me how it's like to live as a Jedi, kid? You probably learned something here if you're giving me an attitude now.”

It actually made Grogu snort softly. Din chuckled, resting his forehead against his son’s that Grogu closed his eyes at the contact, clearly content. 

“I miss you, kid,” Din murmured. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

* * *

It was later when Din walked around the temple to familiarise himself with the building that was currently categorised as a Jedi school, Grogu in the crooked part of his arm.

He found himself entering old barracks, though two of the rooms were cleared of the bunks, which were once no doubt for the soldiers who fought for the Rebels. Instead, the rooms were made into classrooms, with a screen put at one side while several chairs and tables faced towards it. There was a bookcase at one corner, books of all sizes propped onto its shelves, with languages Din was able to recognise printed on their spines when he stepped in to have a closer look.

One of the rooms had pigeon holes at another corner, just below the windows that were opened to let fresh air stream in. They looked as if they were reserved for school bags, which was an adorable image to conjure up. Din figured that this particular classroom was more for children.

“You learned here, kid?” Din asked Grogu. He couldn’t help but feel how hollow this class was when he thought of Grogu sitting in one of the many chairs, and learned his lessons alone.

Grogu gurgled. Both of them looked over the classroom again, where the sun shone brightly against the surface of the tables and stretched across the floor, lighting the place up.

Din held Grogu’s hand as they stepped out of the classroom, letting the door shut behind them.

There was the mass hall next, and he was hit at how massive the place looked without anyone taking up the seats. Like the classroom, it was far too empty. Several benches of tables looked relatively clean despite being unused, the counters where the people would serve food for the soldiers remained empty. Sinks lined up at both sides of the room, mirrors stretching on the wall above them, dustless as if someone just wiped them down.

Grogu let out some noises as he pointed towards the counter. Din looked at him questioningly before following where he indicated. “You hungry?”

Grogu hummed, and Din was about to enter the kitchen, where it was only behind the counter, when a droid made an appearance.

Din cursed, whipping out his blaster and aimed it towards the droid, taking a few steps back while holding Grogu tighter to himself. The droid held up its mechanical hands in surrender. 

It was then Din realised the droid wasn’t armed in any way, and it seemed as alarmed as Din was from where it merely stared at them both. Taking a closer look, he realised this droid was a MK 8001 Attendent Droid, and their job was to look after young children. 

“A nanny bot,” Din muttered, slowly lowering his blaster. This had the droid lowering its hands as well, easily trusting him with its life. “I’m guessing you’re Skywalker’s.”

The droid nodded, and Din let out a small breath as he slipped his blaster back to its place. Then, he studied the mass hall a little closer, searching for anything he might have missed, while the droid patiently waited for his orders.

Din looked down at Grogu again, who met his eyes with a blink. “It’s not dinner yet, and I don’t want you to spoil your meal by eating something heavy. Like fried frogs or something.” Then, he lifted his head, looking over the droid with some apprehension. “You don’t suppose you have any cookies, do you?”

“I do,” the droid answered, and it took Din some effort to not be startled at the clear voice. “We have a variety. But, I have learned Grogu likes the ones with fruit flavoured spread in the middle. Shall I get him a packet?”

“You do talk,” Din muttered. He gave the droid a nod. “Sure, why not?”

“Very good, sir,” the droid easily replied, turning around to get the said food.

Din leaned against the counter, setting Grogu on the surface as he watched the droid twisting off the lid of a metal container. “Do you cook for Skywalker?”

“Yes,” The droid reached into the tin and took out a packet of cookies. “Master Skywalker reprogrammed me in order for me to execute additional chores, in case he has business that takes most of his time. Sometimes, he cooks for himself and Grogu while leaving me to dust off the classrooms.”

“Right,” Din drawled as the droid screwed back the lid of the tin. “What else do you do?”

“I clean, I watch over Grogu when Master Skywalker is not able to train him,” the droid informed him, walking over to where they stood and set the snack in front of Grogu. The packet was already ripped open, with a few pieces of blue cookies coming into view. “Sometimes, I sew clothing. R2-D2 will be in charge of the mechanisms of the temple, including security. On the other hand, I am the caretaker.”

Grogu grabbed onto one cookie with one little hand, immediately munching onto it that the sound of his crunches echoed through the whole hall. Din twisted his mouth to the side. “Are there only one of you?”

“There is another Attendant Droid on the upper floors. She is in charge of that wing, while I am in charge of this wing.”

Apparently, Skywalker surrounded himself with droids. While Din didn’t have immense hatred for them like he did before this, he was still wary of them to a certain extent. But, if you were alone with a child who couldn’t talk out loud as your only other companion, Din supposed having droids who were comprehensive to speech and had enough intelligence to hold a conversation wasn’t so bad.

“Can you fight?” Din questioned, reaching out to wipe crumbs off Grogu’s cheek, who batted his hand away.

“No. I am a caretaker, not a fighter.”

“A caretaker should be able to defend themselves and the people they’re protecting,” Din argued. IG-11, the heat of the lava, the explosion; they were all still flashing in his mind, the sting of bacta still fresh against the side of his head.

“Not I,” the droid replied calmly.

Din watched Grogu inhale the last of the first cookie before he pushed himself off the counter, collecting Grogu back into his arms while the kid held onto his snack. “We’ll keep exploring for now.”

“Very well, sir. I am here if you require any form of assistance.”

Din marched his way out, not knowing where to go until he realised he was on his way up to the same floor he first saw Grogu. Stepping out of the lift, Din took a moment to gauge the two directions split on either side of him, before making a turn on the left.

The last door near the end of the hallway opened under his presence, and Skywalker looked up from where he was staring at the hologram in front of him, arms folded across his chest with his brows furrowed in concentration. Then, his expression cleared before he offered Din a smile. 

“Anything I can help you with?”

Din took that as an invitation to walk in. There was a quick moment when Din appraised the room before he realised it was a council-room; The round table sat in the middle of the clearing, while several other screens lit up with names and their titles underneath them. Din realised they were all New Republic. The R2 unit was at the side, beeping happily at Grogu that had him chirping out in response.

Skywalker was still waiting for an answer when Din met his eyes again.

Din put Grogu down, and the kid made his way to the droid without looking back.

“You have a large school, Skywalker,” Din noted, standing beside him by the hologram. “I can’t imagine how you’d find that little womp rat if he starts running away from you.”

Skywalker laughed, dropping his arms to the sides. “I told you to call me Luke.”

Din hesitated, before nodding. “Fine. Luke, then.”

Skywalker —no, _Luke_ — let one corner of his mouth curl up in amusement. “And you’re right, I guess it’s a little bit ambitious of me to have the Great Temple as my school, when I only have one student with me.” He shrugged. “I’m looking forward to finding more force-sensitive children and other Jedi to fill up the place, though.”

“It had to be a relief to find Grogu in the beginning,” Din commented, looking over to where Grogu and R2-D2 were conversing with each other. Maker knew what they were talking about, but it had to be exciting from all the beeping R2-D2 was doing.

“It was,” Luke agreed, following his gaze, his own expression turning somber for a while. 

Guilt trickled down his chest when Din was the cause of that expression. Though he didn’t exactly understand _why_ , he raced for something else to talk about. “I met your Attendant Droid at the mass. Almost shot it in the head after scaring the hell out of me.”

“Please don’t shoot Dooba,” Luke advised, a grin growing across his face. “She’s been very helpful to me. I don’t want her dead by your hand or have Deeba slip into grief.”

“Deeba, the other Attendant Droid?” Din squinted at him when Luke nodded. “You call your droids Dooba and Deeba?”

“You’re judging me,” Luke said, more of a statement and less of a question. But, he didn’t seem perturbed when the same mischief was still visible on his face. “Yes, I know it sounds childish, but they _are_ Attendant Droids, made to take care of children. I think having some _peculiar_ names would be interesting.”

“Peculiar, huh?” Din raised an eyebrow at him, but Luke must have seen it nonetheless, because he snickered before turning towards the hologram again.

Silence hung above their heads, and Din realised it was a companionable sort of quietness he hadn’t had for a while, not with all the work he made himself dive into before this. Those kinds of meetings had been strictly short and professional — he hadn’t had the time to actually sit down and converse with the people like old friends except when he was haggling about his reward.

It was nice. It also made him realise the nagging feeling in his head subsided the moment he saw Grogu under perfect care.

He glanced at Luke, who was still studying the hologram in front of him as he added some of his own thoughts in it. Din wondered if Luke actually knew if he was coming to the temple; the Jedi didn’t exactly look surprised when Din made himself known without a warning, as if he was expecting it.

But, Din had to ask. He had to know.

“Am I intruding?”

Luke blinked at him, straightening his spine from where he was bending over the console. “No? I mean, I don’t mind you being here while I’m working.”

“Am I intruding here, in the temple,” Din clarified, and something understanding eased into Luke’s eyes at that. “Am I making the right choice to come here and see Grogu? Especially when the Jedi are all about zero attachment?”

Luke considered him for a while, facing him to give Din his full attention. “According to the old Jedi, maybe.”

Din frowned at him. “Maybe?”

“My Master and the rest of the Jedi I know might hit me in the head for doing this, if they were here,” Luke gave him a small smile. “But I don’t mind you visiting your son here.”

“Are you sure? Your… Jedi Code. The emotions that would get in the way. How _I_ would get in the way.”

“There are worse things than loving your own parents, and separating the children from them at a young age is one of them.” Luke put a hand on his arm, and Din was forced to look into the blues of his eyes as they searched into his visor. “I won’t be separating you two. I won’t be doing that to my future students either.”

“Why?” Din asked, honestly flabbergasted. “Your Jedi Code. It forbids you. And, I shouldn’t have done this in the first place.”

He probably shouldn’t have. He probably should have listened to Boba when he tried to reason with Din, but something warned him to go. And he did, without exactly caring what it would actually mean.

Oh, Maker. What had he done?

Din took a step back, causing the hand on his arm to fall away. “I should go.”

“No, Mando,” This time, Luke reached out and took his arm again, his grip harder than before, desperately trying to reason with him. “Listen, I know what the Jedi Code tells everyone, and I know it breaks everyone’s hearts to follow these kinds of rules, but _I’m_ going to change that. I don’t want any more families suffering because of them.”

“At what cost?” The touch of Luke’s hand was far too warm, threatening to scorch through his clothes. “If that’s going to only harm people, only because these kids are attached to their families and don’t know how to handle themselves, what then?”

“People think that attachment is the downfall of a Jedi but it’s not,” Luke tightened his grip on him before taking another step closer. “It’s _not_. It’s how they have to _hide_ all the love they carry for their family, for their parents, and for the people they love. It’s _shame_ , Mando. Shame and _guilt_. And that, unfortunately, can lead to fear.”

It made sense. Din read and learned as much as he could of the Jedi, and he knew what Luke was saying, could understand where he was coming from.

He could be dubious, he could question more of this theory, because he was afraid of what he’d done will put Grogu in danger, and he couldn’t let that happen. He didn’t want his need to see his son be the cause that Grogu will fail to become a Jedi.

But, it made sense. What Luke said made sense.

“Fear of losing someone you love,” Din guessed, and Luke nodded.

“Exactly.” Luke seemed to realise what he was doing and he cleared his throat, unlatching himself from Din before taking a step back. But, the same determination was still burning in his gaze when Luke met Din’s eyes. “And I don’t want that to happen. Which is why I’m changing some things.”

Din thinned his mouth, looking over to where Grogu was sitting on top of the R2 unit, clearly delighted by the height when he patted the droid’s head. “I hope you’re right.”

Luke followed his gaze, and a soft smile took over his features. “He’s a smart kid. It didn’t take long for us to go through the basics, since he already knew them. It’s only a matter of time before he gets a Lightsaber of his own.”

Din shot him a look. “Not now, right?”

Luke chuckled, facing Din again. “Not now.” He tilted his head to the side. “I haven’t told you where you’ll be staying, huh? Come on, I’ll show you where.” With that, he crossed the space to the door. 

R2-D2 beeped at the sight of his master walking away, and rolled forward to follow him, Grogu cheering him on.

Din was left at the back, and he felt lighter after the reassurance Luke had given him, welcoming him to stay at the temple. Despite the initial worry that drove him there, he was starting to accept what Luke said.

With that, he followed them all out.

* * *

It was late at night, where Din had gotten into his room after having dinner with Luke and Grogu at the mass. The day’s heaty fumes had dispersed into something cooler when the moons greeted them high and bright in the sky, the trees swaying slightly under the small breeze that passed through.

Grogu didn’t want to sleep in his room, especially when it was located on the other side of the hall where other padawans would sleep if they were in the temple. Din had welcomed him into his, and Luke didn’t comment on it when he waved both of them goodnight before retiring into his own room.

Din was perched on the edge of the single bed, watching the way Grogu was sleeping on the furthest part of the mattress, his back pressed against the wall, chest rising and falling with each breath he took. The robes he wore weren’t long like his old ones were; it had his feet poked out into the open that Din couldn’t quite hide the fond smile on his face when he stared at the little green toes.

He unfolded the blanket and pulled it over Grogu’s body, not wanting him to catch a cold.

He turned away, and the day’s exhaustion was pressing harder onto his shoulders that a small groan escaped when he reached over to switch on the lamp. The soft touch of the light hardly stirred Grogu up, even when Din let out a tired sigh when he sank back onto his mattress.

Reaching up, Din held his helmet and pulled it off his head, hearing the way it hissed in the quiet room before he set it on the bedside cabinet. 

He ran a hand over his pressed hair, ruffling it up a bit to make it come to life after hours under that helmet. He dragged his fingers down his forehead before pinching into his closed eyes, another sigh escaping through his mouth.

He was tired, yes. But, it was the good kind, the kind he hadn’t felt for a long time.

And he really wanted to get some sleep.

He pushed himself off the bed, careful not to jostle Grogu so much in case he accidentally woke him up, and started peeling off pieces of beskar one by one.

It wasn’t until he was only in his pants, shirtless in the night, that he kicked aside his boots before reaching for the towel given to him from the foot of the bed. Din made his way to the attached refresher, squinting when the bright white light blinded him momentarily.

He quickly but quietly closed the door behind him, and then turned towards the mirror.

Din saw his reflection frown at him, even as he rubbed a hand over the dark crescent moons under his eyes. The facial hair that littered across his jaw was starting to look unkempt, but he couldn’t care less at the moment, not when the call of his bed was tempting, now that he had settled his heart from worrying so much.

He quickly brushed his teeth, stripped off his pants, and stepped into the shower.

The warm water was heaven on his back, clouds of steam already filling up the bathroom. Din closed his eyes, tilting his head back to let the water pound on his face and wash away the day’s activities.

It felt good. _He_ felt good.

He pulled his head away from the rush of water and reached over for the new bar of soap. He started scrubbing along his body, down his torso and his legs, over his arms and his neck. The shampoo was amazing as well, something minty and cold when he applied it to his hair.

Din remained under the shower despite all the suds being washed off, and he found his mind wandering to blue eyes.

Blue eyes. Gold woven hair. The warm touch of a hand against his arm.

He jolted himself back to reality, wiping away the droplets that were prickling his eyes while his heart thudded against his chest in outrage and shame. He was thankful for Luke, that was all — it was why he thought of him now, at his most vulnerable, mind and body relaxed. It was because Luke Skywalker told Din he was more than welcome to visit his son if he wanted to, and didn’t even fight him for it.

It was why Din thought of him then. It was because he was grateful for what the Jedi did.

 _Yeah_ , he tried to convince himself. _That was exactly it._

Din twisted the tap off and used the towel to wipe himself down. Then, he stepped out of the shower, out of the refresher. 

He dressed in the extra undershirt and pants he brought out from the gunship, vehemently trying to get rid of the image of Luke with the vigorous way Din rubbed his towel against his hair, nails scratching his scalp through the thick fabric.

Then, he carefully slipped into bed, curling himself around the small body of his son under the blanket, who still slept like the dead. Din made himself relax, unclenching his jaw and closing his eyes.

It wasn’t long before he felt himself drift to sleep. And before darkness took him completely, Din pressed a kiss on top of Grogu’s head.


	2. High-Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din didn’t know how to respond to this — noticing these things shouldn’t make him feel as if he was threading across some marsh with boots sucking into squelching earth, refusing to let him go, all while struggling to pull himself out of this odd placement he found himself in. 
> 
> It wasn’t necessarily _unease,_ but he had gone through better interactions with other people —some of them a worse kind of bunch than he was— without having to second guess his welcome, despite how Luke kept waving his concerns away. And the thing that stilted Din a bit was how he didn’t exactly _know_ why he was feeling this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter is here! We’re climbing our way to the first part of ✨romance✨
> 
> Enjoy!

_noun_. a meal eaten in the late afternoon or early evening, typically consisting of a cooked dish, bread and butter, and tea.

When Din woke up, the sun greeted him with a rampage to commit genocide to his eyesight.

He probably forgot to close the blinds last night when streaks of early morning sun slashed through the windows, stabbing into his eyeballs as if they were made of knives with a prejudice in seeing him well-rested. 

He groaned, covering his face with a hand before he rolled tighter into himself. “Dank farrik,” he muttered under his breath, turning his head to the side and shoving his face into his pillow with fingers pressed against his eyes.

Sleeping proved to be useless when his body refused to be lulled into the heavy feeling of early morning drowsiness. That was when everything started to trickle into his murky conscience.

It was eerily quiet from where he was perfectly still on the bed, the outside world muted from the walls of the temple, his own breathing filling in the room around him. It had Din lowering down his hand, where he squinted at the space between himself and the wall that bracketed Grogu throughout the night.

Only to realise that Grogu wasn’t there.

Din pushed himself up, shoving a hand through his hair as he looked around. “Grogu?” He rasped out, panic slowly climbing in his chest. He let his feet fall onto the ground, pulling up the pillow in half-hoping the kid would be there, but shoved it down again when it was obvious he wasn’t. “Kid, where are you?”

He stood up, almost stumbling to the refresher. He slammed a hand over the button, eyes roving over the sink and toilet bowl the moment the door slid open. He reached out and yanked the shower curtains aside.

Nothing. No Grogu.

Din cursed, making quick work to clean himself up a little before he got himself ready with his armour. He slipped on his helmet, shoved his blaster into their compartments, grabbed the beskar spear from its place off the wall, and marched his way out of the room.

He checked the meditation room first, hoping the kid would be there only to find the place empty. He swallowed down the anxiety induced irritation and stormed to the council-room, because if anything, Luke might know where his student had gone first thing in the morning.

There was no one in there too, and Din might have lost half his mind to the knowledge that both of them were Maker knows where before he remembered that Attendent Droid might have a hunch to where they might be. He made a U-turn and stalked towards the lift, stabbing a hand onto the button that the doors immediately opened, as if sensing his worry.

The mass was as empty as yesterday, and that didn’t help the prickling unease that festered in his stomach as he made his way to the counter. The droid looked like she was cleaning up, skillet clanking against her metal hands as she washed away the grime. “Where are they?”

Dooba looked up, hand pausing its work. “Are you looking for Master Skywalker, sir?”

“And the kid,” Din tried not to twitch when Dooba put down the skillet with a _clank_ to give him her full attention. Din pressed his fist against the side of his leg to tamper down his rattled nerves. “Any idea where they might be?”

“Master Skywalker told me to inform you that they would be outside,” Dooba said, and Din let out a small breath of relief _._ “Master Skywalker also told me to tell you that they will be revising the lessons Grogu learned for the week. You’re welcome to watch his progress at the training grounds, if you wish, sir.”

Goddammit. Din was so sure his heart was going to pop out of his chest from the rude awakening he went through earlier. He inhaled slowly between clenched teeth, before releasing it through his nose as he prevented himself from collapsing against the counter.

He shouldn’t be worried; there was a routine that went on in the temple that Din didn’t know of, and so there wasn’t any reason for him to think that they were in a constant state of danger. They weren’t being chased. Din didn’t have to keep an eye open even when he was sleeping. They were in what was supposed to be an abandoned base in the middle of nowhere, with no one knowing that it was still operational, all while having one of the most powerful Jedi occupying its halls. 

Grogu should be safe, he should be fine, especially when he was under Luke’s care. Luke promised, after all. He wouldn’t want anything to hurt his student.

“There’s breakfast left for you,” Dooba continued, oblivious to Din’s existential threat. “Master Skywalker and Grogu had theirs early in the morning, and they didn’t want to disturb your rest. I’ll heat it up for you, if you like. It shouldn’t take long.”

Din released another breath, clenching and unclenching his hand. “Sure, why not. Just,” he hesitated, before mentally shaking off the apprehension that wanted to rest on his shoulders. “Just pack it up. I’ll eat it on the way.”

“Very well, sir,” Dooba replied, already taking out a container from one of the cabinets. 

Din watched the way his food was put into the microwave. “Where are the training grounds?”

“Well,” Din looked up at Dooba’s halting tone, as if she was unsure how to reply to his question. “I suppose there isn’t strictly a specific place that is reserved for them to train, but Master Skywalker does consider the whole forest as an obstacle course for young Grogu to go through.”

Din straightened himself up. “Does he.”

“Oh, yes,” Dooba agreed, Din’s flat question flying over her head. “He does it all himself, and from what I heard, it helps Grogu in his training.”

The microwave gave out a loud _ding!_ the moment his breakfast was heated up, and Dooba scrapped it into the container for Din to bring it around. He accepted it from her when Dooba let it cross over the counter. “I suggest eating that when it’s still hot,” Dooba recommended. “It tastes better that way, so I heard.”

“Thank you,” Din said. 

“It was my pleasure, sir. Master Skywalker and young Grogu would be near the hangars, and they don’t go far into the forest. You’d find them there.”

Din gave her a nod, before he was out of the mass with a freshly warmed container of breakfast in his hands.

It took some effort to eat, considering he had to hold onto the container with one hand, while pushing up his helmet with another. At least, the mass had tables and benches for him to use, as it was intended — and maybe he _should,_ but sitting down with Dooba nearby had him feeling a little embarrassed, especially after the little breakdown he did in front of her in his rush to search for Grogu.

He shoved some bread into his mouth to forcefully shut down his thoughts and instead focused on the hallways that would lead him to Luke and Grogu.

Sure enough, when Din pushed a door open at the furthest side of the hangar, the first thing he saw was that the both of them were facing each other.

Luke had one knee on the ground, a gloved palm turned upwards as he held something for Grogu, who seemed to intently listen to what his master had to say about the mechanics of what their lesson entailed. When Din got nearer, he realised it was small plastic balls, slightly smaller than the size of his thumb, and there were at least fifteen of them in Luke’s hand.

“Am I interrupting?” 

Both of them looked up as Din stepped forward, and Grogu seemed to perk up at his presence, letting out a coo of greeting. Luke smiled brightly at him, resting his arm on his lap. “Nope. We’re just going through the steps of Grogu’s revision.” Then, he noticed the container. “I hope breakfast was okay?”

“It’s fine,” Din assured him. “Thank you, by the way. I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t take the trouble to make extras for me, but I appreciate it all the same.”

Luke let out a soft laugh, and it was then Din realised the way sunlight shone onto him and hit his hair, lighting up the air around him from where he still knelt on the ground. It didn’t help, really, when it dipped into the cleft of his chin, with his head tilted up to meet Din’s gaze. “Sure, but then I’d be a terrible host, and I don’t think my aunt and uncle would be too happy I’ve turned into this ungrateful bastard.”

Din didn’t know how to respond to this — noticing these things shouldn’t make him feel as if he was threading across some marsh with boots sucking into squelching earth, refusing to let him go, all while struggling to pull himself out of this odd placement he found himself in. 

It wasn’t necessarily _unease_ , but he had gone through better interactions with other people —some of them a worse kind of bunch than he was— without having to second guess his welcome, despite how Luke kept waving his concerns away. And the thing that stilted Din a bit was how he didn’t exactly _know_ why he was feeling this way.

He licked his lips, rearranging his weight, and tightened his hold onto the container to ground himself. “I guess.” He nodded at the hand holding the small balls. “So, what are you doing?”

“Well,” Luke reached forward and slotted the helmet onto Grogu. The visor had a cover, effectively blocking his vision. “It’s our normal exercise. I’ll be throwing these balls at him using the Force, and he’ll be catching them using the same technique. After that, we’ll be going through the obstacle course.”

“Dooba told me about that,” Din mentioned, seeing the nearby boulder harbouring under the shade of the trees and walked there to sit on it. He set the container beside him. “Said you made it yourself.”

“Just a little improvising that can be added in the near future,” Luke hummed as he stood up. Then, he turned around to put some space between them. “It won’t be much different once Grogu gets his lightsaber, but it’s easier for him to transition into that level later when we start now.”

“Right,” Din said while Luke stopped, a good twenty feet between him and Grogu. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

Luke let the balls hover above his hand. Din watched, curious, when they started to spin around, before they went higher and further from Luke until they were several feet above his head. With a spread of his fingers, the balls slingshot through the air at random places, either buried deep into the forest or hidden somewhere on the roof of the temple.

Din redirected his gaze to Grogu, pushing down the worry niggling inside him when the kid held up his hand in front of him. The last time he witnessed the Force, Grogu was at the Razor Crest’s cockpit with him, catching the knob of that lever after he coaxed him to do it.

It was different now. This wasn’t like the time on the ship.

Quickly, Luke swung his arm into a wide arc and the first ball came hurtling towards Grogu at the speed of light. The kid tilted his head to the side as it came whistling to him in high velocity, before pointing his arm towards its way and stopping it mid-air.

Din held his breath, and Luke didn’t wait for the ball to drop on the ground when he continued throwing others at Grogu’s way. One by one, they came flying through the air and right at the kid as if they were heat signature missiles. And one by one, Grogu was able to stop them with a wave of his arm, movements abrupt and precise even if the helmet he wore constricted his vision.

There were two coming towards him from opposite angles and Din watched, transfixed, when Grogu leaped into the air and let the balls collide into each other, the force of the hit allowing them to bounce off one another until they were shot in opposite directions. Grogu landed perfectly on his feet, his movements having none of the stumbles when Din first met him.

It struck him then. Had it already been so long since they saw each other? It had been months, and it was obvious Grogu was drastically getting better at his training, with the way he was able to duck out of the way of danger even before it was within range. Perhaps Din was a little fooled by the mere size of Grogu, even if he knew deep down that the kid was more than capable in doing the things any Jedi would. 

Grogu didn’t even appear as exhausted as he used to. Back then, whatever he did just now would have put him to sleep for hours.

Din felt pride growing inside of him, pushing himself up and meeting him in the middle of the clearing. “Good job, kiddo,” he called out, grinning underneath his helmet. “You did great.”

Grogu pulled off his own helmet from his head, allowing a big smile to grow across his face as Din knelt down to his height. “That’s really impressive,” Din said warmly, holding onto his hand. “And you didn't even pass out like you used to.”

“Endurance is the key, too,” Luke spoke up, where he had already closed the distance to where they stood, wearing a smile of his own. “Grogu had time to build that before you arrived. And he’s becoming faster by the day that I wouldn’t be surprised if he would be able to catch up with me soon.”

Din took the helmet in his hand, and he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at how small it was in his hands. He turned it over to take in the size of it. “You made this?”

“I did,” Luke admitted, his smile growing. “I couldn’t exactly give him my old training helmet when it’s just going to be a full armour for him. And he had to go through this kind of training sometime, so building a new one for him was the best bet.”

“It’s,” Din searched for a word as he turned the helmet again, even though it was just a normal white one without any intricate design on it. “Charming.”

“There was a measuring tape and everything,” Luke nodded in mock solemnity. “At least, Grogu didn’t move around too much when I took his measurements.”

“He’s good like that,” Din said, looking up to meet Luke’s gaze, before realising the position he was in for him to do so.

It seemed that they switched places, with how he was the one looking up at Luke now, the sun directly in his eye from where it shone behind the Jedi’s back and illuminating around him like a halo. Din felt the skin under his collar heat up and made himself look down at Grogu, who was reaching for the helmet Din was still holding onto like a lifeline.

“Next,” Luke began while Din helped Grogu wear it on again. “Obstacle course.”

“You put something out there?” Din questioned, pushing himself to his feet.

“Not much. Just a rope to swing on when there’s a big gap between the branches. The rest is all nature’s doing.” Luke regarded him for a moment. “You can join us, if you want.”

Din blinked at him. “I can do that?”

“Sure, if you want,” Luke began walking deeper into the forest with Grogu at his side, who didn’t so much stumble as he enthusiastically followed after his master. “That’s considering if you can keep up.”

Din felt his eyebrows shoot up, before he stepped forward as well. “You’re saying that I can’t.”

“Not can’t, per say,” Luke flashed him a grin over his shoulder. “But your armour is bound to slow you down since it’s, what, full beskar? So, we’re _worried_ , that’s all. Isn’t that right, Grogu?”

Grogu let out some noises _,_ and Luke nodded sagely. “You probably think so.”

“I don’t know what he told you since I don’t have those Jedi powers like you do to understand him,” Din said dryly. “But, I can tell whatever it was, it’s probably not true.”

“He just said that you’re faster than you look,” Luke let one corner of his mouth curl up. “That’s not true?”

Din stepped forward, shaking his head. “You’ll see.”

There was a fallen log that looked like it was pushed to the side, clearing the way for them. There was no indication that showed a road or a valley to guide them to the finish line, but that didn’t seem to bother Gorgu the least, or Luke for that matter. The faith he had for his student was unshakable. “There’s going to be a river somewhere in the middle of the forest,” Luke informed him for his benefit. “That’s where we’ll stop.”

“Easy enough,” Din stated, zooming into the standing trees and shrubs littering the ground as far as his helmet would allow him. He couldn’t see the river from here, but he’d take Luke’s word for it.

“It’s knowing where to avoid any obstacles by reaching out into every living form’s energy. The same way one would know from where a projectile is coming your way.” Luke looked down at Grogu. “Are you ready, my padawan?”

Grogu let out a hum, and Luke gave Din a glance. “Go.”

Luke was off first, and Din watched in surprise as Grogu went running after him with almost the same speed, a string of giggles trailing behind him as he left Din behind.

Din mentally shook his head and followed after them, and it wasn’t long before the sound of running footsteps accompanied the melody of whisper birds singing in their homes.

The wind whistled past his helmet, his cape fluttering behind him; twigs snapped and broke into two under the force of their run. There weren't many fallen branches or stray boulders in the middle of their way — it made Din easier to keep an eye on Grogu as he rushed his way forward to catch Luke, who was already a few distance away from both of them, glancing back to make sure they were within range.

That was until the trees started to get tighter, and the shrubs brushed against his legs more frequently than it did at the start. Din had to jump over another fallen log at one point while Grogu had slid under it relatively easily, given his smaller size.

He didn’t expect the kid to immediately jump on top of several boulders before launching himself off the biggest one. Din almost screeched into a halt, heart thundering against his chest when he already thought of ways to catch Grogu if he fell, when the kid latched onto one of the branches and hauled himself up without breaking his stride.

Grogu ran across the branches now, free of the mess on the ground as he had clear access to catch Luke at any given moment. 

“ _Osik,_ ” Din breathed out, newfound admiration growing rapidly as he watched his son move along the length of the branches and around the leaves as if he didn’t have that helmet on him. 

Well now, that just changed the game. 

Din pressed onto his gauntlet, and he was off the ground as well, flying in between the trees and vines as he tried to catch up with both Jedi and padawan.

Luke whipped his head around in surprise, mouth agape when he saw Din gaining distance on him. “That’s hardly fair!”

“It’s not!” Din shouted back, and Grogu grabbed onto the rope dangling in front of him before he swung forward —nevermind that Din just made a racket with his jetpack— and landed on another tree with one smooth barrel roll, all while without breaking his concentration.

Din ducked under a hanging vine and avoided an incoming tree. Just when he thought he was going to continue the rest of his journey through the forest, he burst into a clearing.

“ _Kriffing—_ “ Din frantically jabbed onto the console of his gauntlet before he was jerked into a stop. 

He took a deep breath. Looking around, he found himself fifteen feet off the ground, the skies freed of the canopy of trees and its veins from where the bright blues stretched above his head. Somewhere to his right, Grogu had already taken off his helmet and was sitting on a large flat rock, catching his breath.

Din lowered himself down right until the pebbles crunched underneath his soles. He made his way towards Grogu, who tipped himself backward and spread his arms across the smooth surface, a sigh puffed out through his mouth. “You okay, kid?”

Luke was watching his padawan, amused, before he lowered himself down on the rock beside him. “He’s fine. We’ve done this before, and he should be able to handle it.”

Grogu huffed out a scoff, and Luke laughed. “Yes, it’s as tiring as the last time. But you’ll be fine, won’t you, my young padawan?”

Grogu let out a grunt.

“That’s very reassuring,” Luke brushed a hand over Grogu’s head. “Maybe, you’ll get your lightsaber for this.”

That earned him a curious coo, wide brown eyes peering up to Luke. 

Din watched them both. “He's ready for that?”

“He is, actually,” Luke retrieved his hand back. “I know I told you before that he needs it soon, but I’m thinking more of _now_ since we did what we had to do to continue this part of the lesson. Owning a lightsaber is kinda crucial in becoming a Jedi.”

“If that’s what you think is best,” Din said, looking around them for anything that might be trouble. They were still in the forest, after all. Dangers lurked in every corner, and he wasn’t taking any chances.

For the most part, they found the river, if it was even called that. It was more of a creek, with large stones on its sides that could easily be used as seats, the same way both Jedi and padawan were doing.

That was until Din caught something moving at the edges of the clearing, concealed by the bushes that were clumped together some way on their side of the creek. He tried to see what it was, going so far to use the infrared vision when the naked eye did nothing to help him. 

That was when he was able to make out the shape of what looked like an animal, laying sideways on the ground.

“There’s something over there,” Din voiced out in a low mutter, immediately pulling Luke’s attention.

“Lethal?” He questioned, pushing himself up to stand beside Din.

“I’m not sure,” Din tapped onto the side of his helmet, trying to make out its species. “Anything here that eats people for lunch?”

“We don’t usually bump into anything whenever we’re here,” Luke informed him, eyes jumping around the bushes to see a glimpse of the animal. “At least, anything non-dangerous. We’ve only seen a pack of woolamander from afar, the birds maybe, but that’s it. They tend to stay away.”

“That thing doesn’t look like a woolamander,” Din grunted, putting out the infrared vision. “The head doesn’t look right. I’m checking it out.”

“Be careful,” Luke warned, stepping nearer to Grogu’s side as Din tracked his way forward, hand already resting over the blaster by his hip.

He saw its hind legs first, brown and white fur soaked with blood, with an open wound that looked far too painful for its own good. Bite marks, from the looks of it. It probably got into a fight. Din leaned forward to take a closer look, trying to see the creature from where it had dragged the upper half of its body into the mess of the bushes. 

It glared at him from where it pulled back its lips, showing a row of sharp teeth, beady black eyes trained on him as its flank rose and fell with every laboured breath. It let out a growl, and Din stopped at where he was.

“What is it?” Luke asked from afar.

“I don’t know,” Din replied back. “It has sharp teeth, that’s for sure.”

“What does it look like?” 

“Brown and white fur, with brown stripes on its torso, hooves on the feet.” Din assessed the wound. “Looks like it wants to maul me alive.”

Luke sucked in a breath, and Din turned around to see concern on his face. “That’s a choku. Male, if whatever you just said is correct.”

“They’re bad?” Din asked, eyeing the creature warily now.

“Not as bad as howlers, but a choku could attack you if you’re hostile towards them.”

“Great,” Din muttered. “You think we should leave him here?”

“Grogu doesn’t think so.”

Din looked up to see Luke already standing beside him, Grogu in his arms. Din stepped in front of them, a hand on Luke’s arm as he remained facing the wounded animal. “You just said it wasn’t safe to be near it,” Din hissed out, “and you brought Grogu here?”

“He wants to heal the choku,” Luke said simply, and Din shot him a look over his shoulder.

“The wounded choku that you said would swallow him in one go.”

“If someone is hostile towards them,” Like reminded him. “So far, you haven’t done anything to make it want to bite your head off, so I can hope, under my supervision, that Grogu would at least take away some of this animal’s pain.”

Din glanced down at Grogu, who stared back at him imploringly. “You can’t honestly be serious.”

“It’s in pain,” Luke told him gently, and Din found himself looking into his eyes. “We both can feel it. And Grogu doesn’t feel comfortable leaving it here when other predators could kill it.”

Din held his gaze for a second more, before meeting Grogu’s as well when he wasn’t able to handle the sincerity in those twin blues any longer. It wasn’t helping that the same emotion shone from the kid’s face as well.

Din let out a sigh, stepping aside. “Fine. One wrong move and I’m not hesitating in using my blaster.”

Luke set Grogu down, who walked over to where the choku laid with cautious steps. It was some miracle that the choku didn’t even emit any sort of aggression towards him as he got closer, and instead carefully watched this youngling with a pensive look. 

His lungs threatened to burst under his ribs as Din watched Grogu hold out a hand towards the choku’s way. The creature didn’t move, nor did it make a sound, as if Grogu was quietly reassuring it that they weren’t the enemy, and they were trying to help.

Grogu settled a hand over a small portion of the wound, causing the choku to growl deep in its throat that had Din reaching for his blaster.

Luke caught his wrist, stopping him. “Look,” he murmured, nodding at Grogu’s way.

Sure enough, the choku didn’t make any more sound or movements when Grogu began to heal it. He had his eyes closed, focusing intently on his task, and the bloody bite marks began to knit itself together, closing the slashed flesh until it looked like nothing had attacked it in the first place.

Grogu stumbled back, and Din was quick to catch him before he fell. The aborted movement had the choku jumping to its feet, backing away with a lowered head. 

The hand Luke that held Din’s wrist was put out as a sign of peace. “It’s alright,” he soothed the creature, who took a step back. “You’re healed now. We’re not going to hurt you.”

The choku stared at them, its flanks raised, when it let out a snuff through his nose. Before any of them could do anything else, the choku turned around and ran away.

Grogu let out a sad whimper, and Din tucked him properly into the crooked part of his arm. “No thank you or anything, huh, kid? That wasn’t very nice of it.”

“The choku was pretty scared, and I don’t blame it for running away after whatever it was it went through.” Luke turned towards them, expression softening as he took the sight of them. “He’s exhausted,” he observed, and sure enough, Grogu had his eyes closed, the day’s toll weighing on him. “We should head back.”

“Yeah,” Din agreed, warmth filling in his chest as he watched Grogu’s peaceful face. “He should get some rest.”

Luke grabbed Grogu’s abandoned helmet from the rock, and they walked out of the clearing to make their way back to the temple.

* * *

“That’s a beskar spear, right?”

Din blinked, looking up from his task of polishing his blaster to meet the Jedi’s eyes, who was leaning against one of the X-wings with his feet crossed and hands resting into the hoop of his sleeves. Din followed the direction Luke nodded at, and the weapon laid beside Din from where he left it on the crate he was currently sitting on. “Yeah, it is.”

“How did you get it?” Luke asked. “I thought it was hard to get beskar nowadays.”

He wasn’t exactly wrong. Din knew why they were coming back, though, and why it made the tribe question his loyalty. The armour that was attached to his body could testify that. “Where did you hear that?” 

“Here and there,” Luke shrugged. “You tend to find out about these things when the next round of supplies gets dropped off. That’s when you hear someone important died or someone became the next crime lord on Tatooine.”

“You know about Boba Fett?” Din questioned, putting down the rag.

“Everyone knows how he has Tatooine under his belt now. Anyway, you could say that we’re,” Luke hesitated, pulling his hands out of his sleeves. “Acquainted.”

Din snorted. Luke arched an eyebrow at that, a smile growing on his lips. “What’s that about?”

“I know,” Din said, as if it explained anything. It was funny, because Boba kept tabs on Luke with a mole buried in the New Republic while Luke only heard about him through gossip. “I figured a crime lord and a Jedi would cross paths one day, and I wasn’t wrong. But I guess everyone knows Boba.”

“Boba Fett’s name strikes fear into the hearts of his client’s enemies,” Luke grinned. “You don’t wanna be in his crossfire if you can, but he’ll make himself a Mandalorian shaped hole into your problems if he wants to, and I can admire him for that.”

Din leaned back to look at him properly. “I thought the Jedi don’t condone violence.” 

“We don’t,” Luke affirmed. “But, I met the man twice, and I gotta tell you, if I wasn’t so lucky with what I can do, I’d be his little work of art in that ship of his. Framed and ready to go.” He chuckled. “I heard he used to be expensive, before he got kicked into the Sarlacc Pit and died for a few years, I mean.”

“Even I didn’t know that,” Din told him. Huh. Where did Boba put all that money, then? That could explain why he was able to lay low for a while, though.

“He’s already a celebrity, and I don’t think he wants to stop now.” Luke tilted his head to the side. “So, the beskar spear. How’d you get it?”

“I won it,” Din picked it up, letting the spear bounce in his palm. Then, he held it out for Luke to see, the butt of the weapon hitting the floor with a heavy _thunk_. “Back at Calodan. I was sent there to look for the other Jedi, before she turned Grogu away and gave me this instead.”

There was a stretch of silence that made Din look up, and he wasn’t expecting the shuttered expression that came over Luke’s face. It made Din straightened in his seat. “Something wrong?”

“This Jedi,” Luke asked, tone betraying nothing. “Is she togruta?”

“You two met?” Din asked, because it could explain why she led them to Tython in the first place, given her refusal to train Grogu because of what attachment he developed with Din. She probably knew someone else, or Luke for that matter, would answer Grogu’s call.

“Once,” Luke offered a strained smile. “A few years ago.”

Din figured there was something else there. “How’d that go?”

“Well,” Luke pushed himself off the X-wing. “As well as it can get when she was my father’s padawan. May I?” Din handed the beskar spear over to him, and Luke hefted it in his hands to have a closer look at it. “After everything she went through, I guess it was a little painful to look at me now.”

Din watched the way Luke rotated the spear. “Why? Did your father do something wrong?”

A burst of surprised chuckles escaped, and Luke shot him an incredulous look. “Other than destroying planets and taking lives? Sure. I guess you could say that.”

Din stared at him. “What?”

Luke set down the spear and met his look, brows furrowing. “What?”

“Your father _destroyed_ planets?”

“With the Death Star, sure. Under the influence of the Dark Side, Darth Vader was a maniac.” Luke eyed him for a while, as if he wasn’t sure how to proceed next. “You did hear about that, right?”

Din felt like he was walking on a rocking ship. “That Darth Vader was a maniac? Yeah. You being his son? Not really.”

Luke let out a breath of laughter, perching a hand on his hip. “That’s okay. I was starting to think that whatever bullshit that happened around the galaxy would have been avoided if the name ‘Skywalker’ didn’t carry too much bad luck. But, you’re here, and you know nothing about me, and I wanna say that I’m actually relieved.”

Din didn’t precisely know what to say to that. It could explain a few things if he was honest. Boba’s slight contempt whenever Luke was brought up, for example. And Moff Gideon’s fear wasn’t simply placed on the fact that Luke was able to destroy the Death Star with only a couple of shots from his X-wing, but more to the possibility that he knew Luke had Vader blood running in his veins, and that the same power was shared among them.

To have Luke say that he was _glad_ that Din didn’t know him and the destruction his lineage caused was a little out there, maybe. Luke was more of a big shot than he initially thought, if it had him feeling _happy_ that Din never knew who his father was, and how they were related to each other. Din didn’t even realise who _Luke_ was in the beginning until _after_ he gave his son away to a mysterious Jedi that swept in and saved their lives.

Din knew he had the tendency to not give any absolute damn whenever it didn’t threaten his way of life or the people he cared about; he knew he had a questionable _pattern_ but this was just ridiculous.

The knowledge of him being a hermit crab is finally biting him in the ass, and Din knew he deserved it.

Luke considered the beskar for a moment, before a thought lit his face up. “Hey, you’re up for sparring?”

“Sparring?”

“I haven’t had anyone to spar with for a while, and I miss it.” Luke waved a hand around him, indicating the empty hangar. “You don’t get to have too many contenders here.”

Din let his eyes fall onto the lightsaber hanging by his hip, and Luke caught the act. “Oh, I’m not gonna fight with my lightsaber, but I was thinking of getting myself a staff.”

“You really wanna spar with me?” Din questioned, because no one really had asked to spar with him for a long time. Not since when he was still training with the tribe. 

“Sure. Grogu’s down for the day, and we have some time in our hands,” Luke handed back the spear to Din. “C’mon, I know a place in here that’s empty.”

Din found himself following Luke to an old weaponry to get the staff first. It was mostly empty of the blasters and rifles that he knew would have fitted in their required slots, and he briefly wondered if they were either taken away when Luke first started opening the school for safety reasons, or someone managed to slip in the temple and had stolen them before that.

Either way, he didn’t expect Luke to make his way to the small room at one corner; it was a storeroom, Din realised. With folded rags and mops and vacuum cleaners. But somewhere hidden on one of the top shelves were several training staffs, and Luke reached up to take one for himself.

He hummed, inspecting it properly. “This should be okay.”

Din stood at the entrance of the storeroom, looking around the place. “What happened to the firepower out there?”

“Since I don’t want any future padawans to accidentally blow their hands off, I kept it away. But, some of them are here,” Luke used the side of his foot to tap against the box located at the bottom shelf, one Din didn’t even realise was there until he pointed it out. “In case of emergencies. I don’t use them, but if someone else on _our_ side,” he raised his eyebrows meaningfully at this. “was weaponless and needed a good blaster, I can give them one.”

“That’s very charitable of you,” Din commented. 

“Better safe than sorry,” Luke walked out, passing by Din with his shoulder brushing against his arm. 

They had to ride on the lift to get to the place Luke had in mind for them. When the doors opened, Din didn’t expect the floor to be considerably huge, as if an assembly was held there last time the Rebellions still occupied the temple. 

It had high walls, with long windows apparent at the top for air to breeze in and provide some circulation. The evening sun flitted through the room and lit the place up with a bright hue that glowed on the pale walls, with no benches or any sort of living thing or otherwise in sight, allowing the place to look bigger than it already was. 

There was a small platform at the other end of the room, and Din figured it was a place for holding ceremonies or for leaders to give a talk to their people. 

Din stopped in the middle of the clearing, and Luke stepped in front of him.

Din rolled the spear in his palm. “How do you want to do this?”

“Best of three?” Luke suggested, getting used to the weight of the staff by throwing it from one hand to another.

Din considered the loose posture Luke wore. “Fine by me.”

They took each other in, waiting for the other to start the ball rolling. Din huffed out a breath of amusement, and started to circle around him, slow, knowing — it was enough to raise some concerns when Luke was forced to do the same thing to him, just to keep the distance between them equal. “You’re gonna wait for something to blow up?”

“I figured I’d be respectful to my elders and let you go first,” Luke answered back, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Funny.” Din twirled the spear around, enticing him to come closer. “I promise to be gentle on someone so inexperienced.”

Luke laughed. “And I promise to use the Force and catch you if you trip on your feet.”

Din scoffed. “C’mon, Skywalker, show me what you got.”

The taunt did nothing to jerk Luke into action, who had settled in this slow pace Din had started that he was starting to think it took more than a few teasing words to challenge him. But, he could see that Luke was already shortening the distance between them, even when they were still rounding off at each other, the same playful smirk tacked on his mouth.

Din held up his spear; he didn’t like how he was outrightly stalked as a predator was to its prey, but he knew this dance. He knew when to wait, and he knew when to attack.

He was so focused on Luke, so focused on figuring out where he might start attacking first, that Din failed to notice how Luke was already near enough to only take a step forward at his direction, and jabbed the staff from the bottom up.

It stopped an inch from hitting the edge of his helmet, and Din could see delight shining in those blue eyes when Luke’s smile turned borderline smug. “One-to-zero.”

Din released a quiet breath, before he quickly knocked aside his staff and swung his spear over his head, making a show to smash his face in before halting abruptly mid-air, beskar spear hovering ever so slightly over Luke’s face. 

The smile dropped like a hot coal.

Din soaked in his wide-eyed shock. “One-to-one.”

That was when Luke moved.

The only experience Din had in fighting a Jedi was with Ahsoka, and even then it was the sort of messy, desperate thing that was just him wanting to get her attention. She did the do-first-talk-later technique that him fumbling in his own boots, causing him to frantically deliver his own attacks after she tried to go through his defenses. And if there was one thing he learned from her, was that Jedi people liked to jump.

Really, really high, too.

Din watched as Luke sailed over his head and landed behind him, staff striking out and almost stabbing the exposed part of his back. “Two-to-one.”

“You’re using the Force,” Din argued as Luke stepped back to give them space. “We’re doing this hands-on, normal style.”

Luke shrugged. “We only agreed on the best of three, but fine.” He gave Din a sweet smile. “If it makes you feel better.”

This time, Din was the one who shot forward, smacking his spear at Luke’s way that he countered it with a hit of his own staff.

Din had his focus solely on this, and everything else fell away as seconds ticked by, longer than it should be; his body knew when to expect the upcoming attack, knew when to roll and duck before he jabbed out the butt of his spear to prevent Luke from being hurt because this was just sparring, after all, even his body felt like it wanted to sing at the undeniable rush of adrenaline zipping through his spine.

It took control to make sure there were no actual injuries that were delivered, and they made sure they didn’t actually hit each other directly. Din had an actual weapon in his grasp after all, and Luke was only using a training staff that people would use in the early stages of combat training. Din had to be careful.

He imitated a hit to Luke’s knees, who was forced to make a block before his staff was tangled with Din’s spear. Din took the advantage of his bigger physique to shove Luke away from him, who lost his balance that he fell to one knee, the screech of beskar sliding against the staff deafening against his ear when they were freed of each other. 

Din quickly twirled the spear in the air before bringing it down on Luke, just stopping beside his face.

He could hear himself breathe heavily within the confines of his helmet. “Two-to-two.” He tilted his head to the side. “Don't get sloppy.”

Luke huffed out an air of breathless laughter, eyes flashing. “You wish.”

When they retracted, Luke didn’t hesitate to try to hit him again this time, his movements quick and efficient, aiming to get it over with.

He was relentless then, not giving up as easily as he was before, and Din had to catch up or he was going to find himself at the other end of the staff, pride wounded. Every hit could be felt through his arms, shaking his bones, and every opening was an opportunity he couldn’t expect himself to miss.

Din jabbed into the air below his feet when Luke jumped to avoid his advances. He had to be fast at what came next; Luke was back on his feet, already jerking the staff to hit Din’s side that he was able to counter. Luke didn’t hesitate to land a roundhouse on Din that he hooked his spear around his leg, and slammed him to the ground.

Chest rising and falling rapidly, his spear still hefting one leg against his hip to trap Luke to one place, Din looked down to where he was sprawled on the floor. With strands of light coloured hair sticking against his temple, Luke stared back, panting in laboured breaths like he was.

Din dropped his leg, taking a step back. He let the spear stand beside him, gripping tightly onto it with one hand and offering Luke the other. Hearing himself speak was a struggle when his heart was pounding in his ears. “I guess I win.”

“Yeah,” Luke accepted his offer and let himself be hauled off the floor. He was grinning though, brushing his damp hair off his forehead with a gloved hand. “I had fun, even if I had my ass kicked.”

Din stared at the covered hand, the question hanging on the tip of his tongue, but he figured it wasn’t his business and held back. He tore his eyes away.

Only, Luke caught him looking. “You can ask, you know.”

“Seems a bit rude,” Din explained, because people didn’t ask him why he wouldn't take off his helmet as frequently as he should when, apparently, other Mandalorians did. _The Creed_ was a safe answer. _A cult_ was one that still stabbed his airways from the inside out.

And it wasn’t as if Luke hadn’t seen his face. But he wasn’t going to deal with that _just yet_.

“I don’t mind,” Luke explained, tucking the staff at his ribs before he tugged off the glove. “People tend to get weirded out by this, but it’s still just a hand.”

What revealed wasn’t any normal flesh hand one might have. In its place was a mechanical one that moved as he wished, whirring slightly between them, and the movements were as smooth and natural as anyone would have wanted in their own flesh and blood hand. 

“I decided to opt-out for the skins these days,” Luke continued, flexing his fingers. “Wear a glove instead.”

“What happened?” Din asked, watching the way the hand glinted underneath the evening sun. 

Luke offered a small smile. “Vader.”

Then, the screen on Din’s gauntlet beeped, indicating an upcoming message. He glanced at it, mind rushing in whether to answer it there and then.

“I guess you should take that,” Luke said, slipping on his glove again. 

Din looked at him, mouth opening to say something but was unable to get the words out. He tried a few times, words a tangled jumble in his mind that he couldn’t untangle fast enough, and that had left Luke to wait for him patiently, as if he knew Din was trying to talk to him.

In the end, Din dipped his head in thanks, and tried not to wince at how he could actually say something instead. “Thank you. For today. I’ll have to get this.”

“I’m counting on another round to actually beat you,” Luke vowed, smiling. “Because honestly? Maybe I _was_ a little sloppy.”

Din chuckled. “I’ll be waiting.”

* * *

The moment Din was alone in the lift, he tapped on his gauntlet, and Karga popped up into view.

The mini hologram of his friend grinned, arms spreading wide. “There he is! I’ve been trying to call you for a while, and you weren’t answering. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”

Din relaxed a bit when he saw the familiar face, leaning against the wall of the lift. “Nothing life-threatening.”

“That’s good. That’s good.” Karga nodded, folding his hands in front of him. “So, this might sound a little abrupt from me, but I know you want things done as soon as possible, so I found you a job, Mando. You’re up for it?”

Din was about to reply before he stopped himself.

Was he? After months of working and worrying sick about Grogu, trying to get ends meet again, did he want to take another job when he was able to finally see the kid again? Did he want to leave so soon to earn more, so that if anything happened in the future, he’d be well-prepared?

That was to say anything _were_ to happen, but he couldn’t be too careful. He never thought he’d lost the Razor Crest back then, but look at where that got him.

But he had only gotten there for a couple of days. He wasn’t sure he was ready to leave just yet.

The doors to the lift opened, and Din stepped out and started walking down the hallway. “Anyone else you know who wants this gig, too?”

“I— yes,” Karga sounded surprised at this — Din didn’t exactly blame him, especially when he never turned down any offers Karga gave him ever since he crawled back to Nevarro. “But, I did promise you I’d tell you about the best first, and this one’s payment happened to be very handsome. Fifty-five thousand credits. Thirty percent upfront.”

It was a handsome pay, one of the big ones that Din would have done if he agreed to it.

If.

Images of Grogu grinning at him flashed through his mind, of how the kid had looked ecstatic to have him near his presence again. It was the way Grogu slotted himself into Din’s side when they slept, content for the first time in a long while, considering the fact that Din only slept when his body couldn’t hold itself up anymore.

Something else bled into the picture. Last hour's sparring lesson with Luke was still fresh in his mind and in the way his muscles ache after trying to beat each other up. The good kind of ache, though. The one that had him want for more, just so he could feel it again.

Din found himself standing in front of Grogu’s room, so deep in thought that he hadn’t realised where his feet had brought him until he looked up. 

What did that tell him?

“Actually, Karga,” Din began, who perked up considerably at his name. “I’ll sit this one out.”

Karga blinked at him, sinking down in his chair. “This is a first. You sure ‘bout this, Mando? Because if you are, I’ll give this offer to another bounty hunter who’s scrappin’ for some money.”

Din nodded, reaching for the control pad that would open the door. “I’m sure.” 

Karga hummed, scrutinising him. “Where are you, Mando?”

Din stiffened, and hoped Karga didn’t notice it when he looked down at the hologram of his friend. “Why’d you ask?”

“Well, it’s just that you never turn me away,” Karga crossed his arms. “And I’m curious. Did you find someplace to settle? Take a vacation like I told you to?”

Din paused, clenching his fingers together from where it was hovering over the pad. “Maybe I did.”

Karga grinned. “Good man! You don’t even sound as miserable as the last time I saw you, so I take it this vacation is doing good for you.”

Din felt his eyebrows shoot up. Was he really that glaringly pathetic? “Really.”

“It’s in your armour,” Karga wiggled his fingers in his direction. “I can see it shine a lil’ bit brighter from all the way here.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Right,” Karga clasped his hands together, obviously delighted that Din actually took his advice to _‘do absolutely nothing and do it for yourself’_. “I don’t wanna disturb you anymore, so you do whatever it was you were doing, and I’ll leave you to it.”

“I’m still accepting more offers, Karga,” Din reminded him. “Just— just not now.”

“I hear ya loud and clear, Mando. If there’s anything that’s gonna be as good as this one, I’ll tell you. You don’t need to worry your lil’ head about it.”

Din couldn’t help but let the smile stretch across his face. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. You know where to find me.” Karga gave him a mock salute and ended the call.

Din lowered his arm. He didn’t hesitate this time when he opened the door to Grogu’s room.

He was still asleep — the healing process obviously took a lot from him from where he didn’t even twitch when Din stepped into the room, letting the door shut behind him with a quiet _hiss._

The room was as generic as the one Din was occupying, only there was a small round table that located itself in the middle of the room instead of having the desk he had in his, one suited to Grogu's needs. Papers and crayons were sprawled across the surface, some of his drawings were sticking on the walls beside his bed. 

Din went ahead and took a closer look, and a smile broke over his face when he recognised the crude version of himself pinned up with tape. There were some of them where Grogu was in the same picture with him, and there was one where Grogu drew himself with Luke; but right smack in the middle was Din, crooked helmet and all.

He never thought he would feel such fondness spreading scorchingly across his sternum.

Din turned and knelt on the ground beside the bed, careful not to make a noise. Grogu remained unaware, still blissfully asleep, and Din took a moment to only look at him.

His son. His child. 

He never thought he’d own those words.

Din reached forward and let his hand rest beside Grogu’s, wanting to touch him but not wanting to wake him up. “Guess I’m staying here for a lil’ longer, kiddo,” he murmured.

As if hearing him, Grogu sighed in his sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Osik = shit


	3. Twilight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s probably important, if it warrants you to personally call me.”
> 
> “It is,” she agreed. “General Skywalker, during your search for the youngling currently in your care, we were informed that you were aboard Moff Gideon’s light cruiser, one of the powerful Moffs that were, at that time, in possession of the Dark Troopers. Is that correct?”
> 
> Din felt himself straightening in place.
> 
> What was this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gotta be honest with you, I never thought I’d find myself in the cuisine section of the Mandalorian lore on Wookiepedia, but then, I wanted to make Din a decent cook who knew his roots, so I thought, “Oh hey, this is definitely worth it.”
> 
> (I mean, I did a lot of Star Wars research for this fic, but this is where my love for writing just fuels my dedication to research about the pettiest things, like what kind of animals does Yavin 4 have, and what’s the difference between a choku and a howler. BUT, we don’t talk about that.)
> 
> Fair warning: canon-typical violence, Din getting hurt, mentions of blood, and injured characters. 
> 
> Oh, Din gets to be an absolute sweetheart here, I don’t make the rules.
> 
> Also, I mentioned what each Mandalorian food meant at the endnotes (taken from Wookiepedia of course, god bless that website) just so you’d have a clear understanding of just what they’re making later.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

  
  
  
  
_noun_. the soft glowing light from the sky when the sun is below the horizon, caused by the reflection of the sun's rays from the atmosphere.

  
  


“This is a pleasant surprise.” 

Luke took note of the holographic faces currently in his council-room. “Senators.” Then, he gave a nod to one person in particular. “Chancellor.”

“General Skywalker,” Mon Mothma, the chancellor of the Galactic Senate, greeted him. “It’s been a while since we saw you in person.”

Din was at the far end of the room, tucking himself against the wall so that no one could see him hanging around, all while bodily facing Luke. There was no need to pull questions as to why his presence was there, given what he was and the reputation he carried. The Galactic Senate would raise an eyebrow at him for being in Luke’s safe haven reserved for his kind, considering the history both Jedi and Mandalorians had the misfortune of experiencing in the past.

Grogu was on the floor with R2-D2, playing with the small training balls, but he lifted his head the moment a transmission beeped through the intercoms and watched their conversation with curious fascination.

“That _was_ a while ago, wasn’t it?” Luke mused. “During that time at your celebration dinner.”

“Yes, I suppose it was,” Chancellor Mothma agreed, folding her hands in front of her. “And as much as we miss you here on Chandrila, I’ve come to bring some important matters that require your attention.”

Luke rearranged his spine, and from his place near the windows, Din was able to see the brief way he shot a look at one of the senators, a woman who only met his eye with a silent look of her own. Luke turned his attention to Chancellor Mothma again. “It’s probably important, if it warrants you to personally call me.”

“It is,” she agreed. “General Skywalker, during your search for the youngling currently in your care, we were informed that you were aboard Moff Gideon’s light cruiser, one of the powerful Moffs that were, at that time, in possession of the Dark Troopers. Is that correct?”

Din felt himself straightening in place.

What was this?

Luke eyed them for a second. “Yes, I realised that.”

One of the senators huffed out in irritation, as if he just proved his point by whatever confirmation Luke gave him. It made Din watch them a little closer.

“And so you realised that Moff Gideon was under the jurisdiction of the Senate when we have been trying to catch him for some time now?” She continued.

“I suppose so,” Luke said, meeting the other woman’s eye again, who was trying to appear as if she wasn’t grinding her teeth together. It looked like he was silently asking her what the problem was, but she only gave a single shake of her head that was only meant for his eyes to see. 

Din couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was _that_ about, as well. 

“Then, General Skywalker, we’re wondering if there was any indication that you knew the whereabouts of Moff Gideon at this time, since it appears he has become,” Chancellor Mothma paused. “Indisposed after you stormed into his cruiser to receive the youngling. When our soldiers went there to apprehend him, he was gone, and the cruiser was destroyed.”

Din held his breath.

He knew where Moff Gideon went, or where he might have gone. The argument that took place in the bridge had been tight with tension, especially after Luke came and went with Grogu. Bo-Katan, still simmering with barely checked anger at the knowledge that Din was the current owner of the Darksaber and therefore was the Mand’alor, refused to give Moff Gideon to Cara. She said he was under the rightful watch of their company, and they weren’t going to give him away. 

Cara wasn’t having any of that; it led to another argument that was on the verge of a fistfight, with Cara insisting that he had better uses for the New Republic with the information he had in his hands.

Bo-Katan, hackles raised, said that she and the rest of the Mandalorians were owed to their kind some justice — she said, Moff Gideon belonged to them, and they would do what they would see fit to treat the man who kept the Darksaber, along with Mandalore, under his rule when he treated their homeland the same way a mutt was treating its fleas.

They were lucky Moff Gideon was still passed out by their feet after Cara hit him in the head. Din knew if he was awake to witness the fight he caused, even when he was unconscious, he’d gloat about it for a long time.

“Moff Gideon _will_ come with us,” Bo-Katan had bit out, her blaster aimed at their way, while Reeves was already hauling the man onto her shoulders. “He’s going to pay for what he’s done in preventing me from taking back the throne all these years, from depriving the life Mandalorians have been robbed off, and he’s going to suffer as long as he has to breathe.”

“He could’ve just gone through that if you hand him over to the New Republic,” Cara snapped back, her own blaster pointing at their heads. “We need him for information, and you’re going to deprive us of that same information that could help more people later.”

Din, who slipped onto his helmet again, had stepped in front of Cara and pushed down her weapon with a hand. “Let them go,” he said, and Cara glared at him. “Let. Them. Go. If they wanna keep Gideon, they can have him.”

“You don’t speak for us,” Bo-Katan growled, grabbing onto her own helmet from the top of the console. “You never will.”

Din leveled his gaze on her, physically and emotionally exhausted. “I don’t want this any more than you do.”

“You shouldn’t have disarmed him like I told you to!”

“And you should’ve just taken it from me,” Din pressed out, because he had no energy to explain how Grogu’s life was on the line if he hadn’t beaten Moff Gideon. He shoved the Darksaber into the air between them, letting it sit on his fingers as if it was the foulest thing he had ever touched. “Take it. I’m _begging_ you to take it.”

But Bo-Katan had thinned her lips, backing out of the bridge with her blaster still up while Reeves carried Moff Gideon with her. The rest of them had watched them leave, even after they stole back the TIE fighter and flew away.

Now, Luke looked at the Senate standing in front of him. “You think I took him with me?”

“You should have,” one senator burst out, the same one who had been giving Luke the stink eye since the beginning. “Moff Gideon is an essential asset to the plans of the Empire. He may know something that we don’t, but you let him get away.”

Luke’s face was clear of anything that said he was affected by the accusation. “When I got on that light cruiser, Moff Gideon was already out cold. I assume he was dead. But, seeing that you’re on my neck about this, I’m guessing he wasn’t.”

“No, he was not.” The senator snapped.

Chancellor Mothma raised a hand to stop the senator from continuing anymore, who clamp his mouth shut, and at least had the tendency to look slightly ashamed at being scolded in public. “General Skywalker,” she began calmly, trying to smooth down any ruffled feathers. “What happened to Moff Gideon? When the people we sent to investigate arrived at that cruiser, it was already destroyed. Debris was floating everywhere, and there was nothing left to be salvaged except the poor condition of the bridge. Did you find anyone else when you were on that ship?”

Instantly, Luke found Din’s eyes around the holocall.

Din felt his chest begin to constrict when those blues penetrated through the protective barrier of his armour, leaving his body tingling with the knowledge of being known. Without looking away from him, Luke instead said, “It’s been months since that day,” He flickered his gaze towards the Senate. “Why are you investigating this now?”

“Because we were finally able to obtain some information about that cruiser from an old base he used to control,” Chancellor Mothma said. “And it said an emergency beacon was shot out before the transmission was severed by an unregistered ship.”

_Boba._

“Unfortunately, we weren’t able to find any footage of the insides of the cruiser to understand what happened,” Chancellor Mothma finished.

“What are you trying to say, Chancellor?” Luke asked, just for their benefit, as if he already knew what it was they had in mind.

“That we want clarification on whether or not Moff Gideon really did die along with that ship, or did he survive and was able to escape.”

Luke locked his jaw. “Are you implying that I let him escape?”

“Did you?”

“I thought he was dead. I probably should’ve checked his pulse when I was there, but the man was bleeding from his mouth and out cold on the floor. At that time, I could safely assume that he wasn’t breathing.”

“And we all know that was a foolish mistake.” The senator from before jeered out.

Luke snapped his eyes to him. “And what evidence proved that Moff Gideon did survive, Senator Jon?”

“We were informed that he was seen on the planet Jakku with three Mandalorians,” the senator told him, causing Din to freeze. “The locals there had been passing along the story until one of them reached our people’s ears. But when we tried to see him for ourselves, he was already long gone.”

“You’re basing this on a rumour?”

Senator Jon scowled. “Even if they are just rumours, we shouldn’t take them lightly.”

“With all due respect, Chancellor,” the woman that had been silently communicating with Luke spoke up. “This baseless attack on General Skywalker is only supported by the foundations of a rumour, one that can’t be confirmed unless we have concrete proof that Moff Gideon was really alive, and escaped out of his own cruiser.”

“Of course you’d say that, Senator Organa,” Senator Jon scoffed. “With General Skywalker being your brother, you think he hasn’t done anything wrong. But he was the last one who had seen Moff Gideon and had done nothing to arrest him. Even if he died, he could have just brought the criminal to Chandrila and we would have taken over the rest.”

_Brother?_

Din looked between them; he could see it now, he realised, when both Luke and Senator Organa donned the same tight expressions that pulled between their brows. Though, Luke was able to hide it more than his sister could, who had no qualms in showing how insulted she was in the matter.

“Yes, and I’m sure Moff Gideon was able to provide all the information we need when he's not breathing,” Senator Organa pushed through gritted teeth. “General Skywalker is being accused of a loose rumour that we don’t know is even true. For all we know, Moff Gideon _is_ dead, and whoever that was with the Mandalorians, was not him.”

Senator Jon’s flared his nostrils. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“Senators, please,” Chancellor Mothma stopped them in a clipped tone. Then, she focused on Luke. “You haven’t answered my question, General. Did you see anyone else on that cruiser?”

Luke met her gaze head-on. “No.”

Din looked at him in surprise. He risked his reputation with the Senate by lying to them? Luke didn’t even know most of the people on that cruiser, and yet he readily turned a blind eye on what should be important to the Senate. Din, Cara, and Fennec didn’t exactly have the greatest records at the moment; Bo-Katan and company weren't on the Senate’s favourite list, either. 

Din tried to catch his gaze, and Luke refused to meet his eyes.

“And no one stopped you when you took the child?” Senator Jon demanded incredulously. 

“As you recall, Senator Jon, the Dark Troopers were there,” Luke reminded him mildly. “I was able to get rid of them before I went and took Grogu back with me.”

“You slaughtered them _and_ the stormtroopers?” The senator pressed. “No one stopped you?”

Luke offered him a thin smile. “I’m just that good.”

“Alright,” Chancellor Mothma cut in. “We apologise for the intrusion, General, but we had to make sure. We plan to take a closer look at this particular rumour. If possible, we’d want him to be under our scrutinisation, and we want him to be alive for it. But, seeing as you have no knowledge of his status, we’ll leave you now.”

Luke nodded. “Very well, Chancellor.”

“However, if you do happen to know his whereabouts,” Chancellor Mothma added. “Please inform us.”

“I haven’t been out of this planet ever since I brought back my padawan with me, and the only news I heard from the outside is when the pilots come by to drop off my supplies, but,” Luke offered a forced smile. “I'll see what I can do.”

Then, they all signed off, and Din watched as Luke rubbed a hand over his face, a sigh escaping through his nose.

Din hadn’t seen him this troubled before, and he was guilty he was the cause of that after Luke covered his ass back there. He shouldn’t have, not when it was more important for him to tell the truth to the same people who had a strong political grip on almost every lint of the galaxy, and on the fact how they could either want to favour Luke or cast him away. They were beginning to use him only when they saw fit, controlling his actions with only a snap of a finger.

They shouldn’t be; he wasn't an asset they could use only because he decided to become allies with the Galactic Senate. Luke Skywalker was powerful, yes, and that proved to be good for everyone who supported the things he did, which was to make sure there weren't any wars, and that peace was always an option on the table — but the Senate had no right to demand things from him. He didn’t _owe_ them anything. _Din_ didn’t.

But, here he was, protecting Din.

It baffled him, since Luke wasn’t contracted to him for the Jedi to do that. He would’ve told the Galactic Senate that Din was on that light cruiser, that he was right there at the temple, in the same room Luke was currently in when people were adamant in finding fault in him.

Instead, he didn’t. 

Din pushed himself off the wall and made his way to where Luke was using his hip to lean against the transmitter. He watched Din come over with an arm slung over his middle, almost as if he was protecting himself after what just transpired. Din was almost afraid to find out whether it was for him or the Galactic Senate. 

Din stopped in front of him, and Luke was quiet for a while, searching his visor with a carefully blank look. “What happened to Moff Gideon’s cruiser?”

“We bombed the core,” Din explained, knowing there was nowhere he could avoid this. “There wasn’t much we could do except that. We knew Empire back-up was coming, so we had to destroy the cruiser, and we had to do it fast. The core was the only thing that could do that in a short time.”

“How’d you get off?”

“Boba Fett. He was our ride out.”

Luke let his eyes flicker around his face, restless, still trying to find the same thing he had been searching for since Din stood near his space. “And Moff Gideon?”

Din looked at him for a moment. “Are you going to tell the Senate where he is if I tell you?”

“Do you know exactly where he is?” Luke questioned back.

“Not—” Din wetted his chapped lips. “Not exactly, no.”

“But you _do_ know where he is?”

“Even if I did,” Din started. “I have no idea where he might be, at this precise moment, and at what place he’s held.”

Luke leaned back a little. “But you know who has him.”

It wasn’t a question. Din let out a quiet breath through his nose. “Yes.”

“Who?”

Din had no reason to feel any sort of conflict in his chest when giving in Moff Gideon was the right thing to do. He knew the Senate was right, or Cara for that matter; letting them handle the Moff would be essential to whatever plans that were left of the Empire. There could be something they didn’t know existed that could be hidden deep within the organisation — if they didn’t at least interrogate him, they would have let the Empire control the future like they did before this.

But, that would mean giving away Bo-Katan and her people. While she absolutely loathed him at the moment and would have killed him if she wanted to, the thought of betraying his fellow Mandalorians made his guts bubbled something acid. With the way they were scarce in numbers, the thought that Din would lead Bo-Katan to a road that would have her stripped of her freedom was something he didn’t want. She was obstinate in nature yes, proud to a fault, but that didn’t mean he wanted her facing an issue she would escalate simply because she wouldn’t let Moff Gideon go.

And there was no doubt that the Senate _will_ try to take him by force. Knowing Bo-Katan, she’d answer it with her own small army, regardless of the fact that she would be severely outnumbered. That was how confident she was of her elite number of people.

But, _enough_. Din had enough of Mandalorians dying.

The silence that stretched between them made Luke stare at him in astonishment. “You don’t want to tell me.”

“It’s not that I don’t want Moff Gideon to be punished,” Din began, curling his fingers into a fist. “But, those Mandalorians that senator mentioned? They _do_ have him. And I know them.”

“And you want to protect them,” Luke finished his sentence for him.

Din clenched his jaw, before forcing himself to loosen the tension that was threatening to pull him thin. He shouldn’t have to protect them, not when he was threatened and used by the people who wanted what they were chasing for. Not when he was appointed into a role he had no idea was still legitimate until that day.

What he didn’t expect were the words Luke said after that. “It’s because it’s your duty as their king.”

Din took a step back, surprise and dread shooting down his body. “What?”

“I know what kind of weapon you have on you,” Luke began, nodding at the Darksaber clipped to his hip. “I know what kind of symbol it carries on anyone wields it.”

Din watched him back, trying to breathe properly. The Darksaber at his hip was beginning to feel heavier, as if it knew when it was addressed. It knew, and it wanted him to take it out and swing it around in what valour it thought it deserved. “You know who I am?”

“You’re the Mand’alor.” Luke replied easily. “Ruler of all Mandalorians.”

The slither of something wispy licked up the length of his spine at the way Luke spoke of his title, and it had Din vehemently grind on that feeling with the heel of his boot and hoped to god it ceases to exist.

Din swallowed dryly. “I’m no Mand’alor.”

Luke blinked at him, confused. “But you have the Darksaber with you. You carry it with you everywhere.”

“I’m not worthy to become Mand’alor,” Din insisted, and that was just the thing, was it? He didn’t think he could lead what was left of a Creed, who were all still in hiding and hoping they wouldn’t get killed. Like Din used to do, or, if he was being technical, was currently doing. “Someone else was supposed to have it. It wasn’t supposed to be me.”

Sympathy bled into Luke’s face, as if he knew what it felt to be bestowed with something unexpected without a warning. “How did you get it?” 

“I won it from Moff Gideon,” Din unclipped it from his side, holding out the Darksaber between them. He turned it around in his hand, and Luke watched from where he stood. “It still doesn’t feel like it belongs to me.”

Luke met his eyes. “Can I see it?”

Din didn’t even step back when he held his hand to the side, stretching his arm out, before he unsheathed the Darksaber.

The low hum cut through the room, as if it was relieved to finally be in use again. There was power emitting from the saber in his hand, and Din could feel it drip down his skin like slime, uncomfortable and thick, and it took some self-control to not immediately put it away.

Grogu let out a sound of concern from where he stood beside R2-D2, holding onto the droid as he stared at the Darksaber with narrowed eyes.

Din didn’t know what he was feeling, but it still broke his heart to see Grogu react negatively at the Darksaber, especially after he was held at the other end of its point.

“It’s similar to the lightsaber, but there are different qualities,” Luke gestured towards it. “Like the blade. Whoever made this used the dark kyber crystals.”

“Is there a difference?”

“No,” Luke shook his head. “There’s not. But, I can feel the history it carries, and it’s not as light as we’d like.”

Din stared at the Darksaber in his hand, unable to shake off the feeling of how _right_ the weapon felt in his grip, as if the declaration Moff Gideon announced on his cruiser’s bridge of obtaining the weapon from him settled so easily in his bones. His words still latched onto his frame, shackled and permanently existing under the layer of his skin.

 _Mand’alor_. He was a bounty hunter dammit, he was no one’s king.

Din released a gust of irritation, sheathing back the Darksaber. “I wish I could throw this away, but that’s only just going to make people fight over it and kill each other again.”

Luke winced. “We don’t want that anymore.”

“Exactly,” Din grumbled out. “Too much blood was spilled because everyone wanted to hold onto a special sword that would make them a ruler of a wasteland planet. I’m going to end that.”

There was something tentative in the way Luke talked next. “Wouldn’t that mean taking the throne?”

It would. “No,” Din said instead, the heaviness of his own lie a thick chain around his neck. But, he shook it off. “I’ll find the rightful owner, and I’m gonna try to give it to her. Hopefully, she’ll actually take it that time.”

Luke crossed his arms. “I’m guessing she didn’t want to take it last time you tried to give it back.” 

Din sighed. “No. She didn’t even want to duel me.”

That was strange as well. Bo-Katan would’ve actually dueled him for the Darksaber, especially when she really wanted the throne to Mandalore. 

But then, he remembered he hadn’t finished his mission in bringing Grogu to his kind. Bo-Katan knew more than anyone that one should always care for a youngling, and killing Din off before he could finish his quest would have him abandon Grogu, in return committing the worst kind of crime a Mandalorian can make. And this was all before they knew Luke was already on his way to take Grogu out of that cruiser.

Luke studied him for a moment. “I just realised something. I’ve known you as Mando, Grogu’s dad, and now the Mand’alor. But, I never knew your name.”

Din flexed his hand that was hanging by his side. “I guess not.”

Luke bit the inside of his bottom lip, almost unsure. “Do you mind if I ask for it?”

Din found his gaze flickering to the movement before he snapped them up again, teeth grinding against each other. He _refused_ to be affected by such a gesture. 

“Din,” he pushed out, surprising Luke with his answer, as if he assumed Din would turn away his request. “My name is Din Djarin.”

Din didn’t expect Luke to smile brightly at his answer. “Din Djarin,” he repeated slowly, tasting the grooves of his name. It had Din swallowing down a shudder. Luke offered his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Din didn’t know why he was like this — it shouldn’t make him feel as if he’s floundering underwater. Every little thing Luke was doing, all his little smiles and understanding attitude, it had Din mold himself into the environment this man had shaped around him. He was beginning to notice more of him, more of Luke, and Din was getting increasingly careless with his own reactions.

By god, he refused to let this drive him insane, as well.

Din clasped onto his palm, unable to stop the breathless chuckles at the ridiculity of it all. “Likewise.” 

* * *

It turned out, there was a secret waterfall located somewhere on Yavin 4.

The orange streaks of the evening sun were still high in the horizon, and the dampness of dusk had a few more hours to arrive before it wrapped the day up with one large bow. Din took that as an advantage when he made his way back to the forest, the sounds of life that surrounded him as his companion.

Luke had been tending to a garden that he grew on his own at the back of the temple. He was rather proud of it, and Din saw it for himself when he was about to leave the temple, where the vegetables grew big and healthy from their beds, some of them plump and round from where they hung from their vines. Luke had been harvesting them, donned in his poncho and a hat to protect himself from the sun, letting his knees and glove clad hands play with the dirt. 

Grogu was with him, having his own little hat plopped on his head, where he had waved at Din before letting out a chirp of greeting from his post beside Luke.

Din couldn’t help but laugh softly at the sight of him, and had made a turn to greet them both. “Nice look.”

“I didn’t want any of us getting sunburned,” Luke replied without looking up, stabbing the earth with a fork to loosen it up a bit. “I mean, _I_ get some pretty intense sunburn, but I don’t know if Grogu does. But,” He looked up, wiping his forehead with a hand that knocked the hat back a bit, smearing dirt all over himself. Luke shot him a smile. Din tried not to be as enamoured as he was. “Better safe than sorry.”

“He was pretty much fine when we were on Tatooine,” Din commented, watching Luke fill a basket with carrots from his place against the fence. He passed one to Grogu to hold onto when the kid made grabby hands at him. “I don’t know what could be worse than that.”

“Jakku,” Luke pointed out, and yeah, maybe Jakku was worse than Tatooine _as a whole_ , and not just weather. How was it Jakku was even hotter and drier than Tatooine, no one knew. “Oh no— Grogu, that’s not washed yet—“

Too late, Grogu already took a big bite of the carrot, crunching on it happily. Din looked on in amusement while Luke only stared at his padawan, slightly flummoxed. “I thought his species only eat meat.”

“What makes you say that?” Din asked, and Grogu took another loud bite.

“My old master was the same species as he is, and the whole time I was training with him, he had only ate anything meaty.” Luke frowned, deep in thought. The sight of him looking so serious while wearing his gardening outfit had Din biting back a smile. “It’s either he’s a carnivore, or he just doesn’t eat vegetables.”

“Grogu eats the vegetables I make for him,” Din supplied, and Luke frowned harder. 

“Then Master Yoda didn’t eat _his_ vegetables,” Luke clicked his tongue in mild disappointment. Then, he lifted his head to look at Din. “So, where are you off to?”

“A little bit of exploring, I’m thinking of figuring out the layout of the place around the temple.”

Luke pointed the fork at him in excitement. “You know where you should go? The waterfall. It’s a ten-minute walk from the creek we went that day, and it’s a relaxing place to go to if you feel like hanging around and do nothing.”

Din tilted his head to the side. “How’d you know about that place?”

“Grogu and I found it during one of our lessons. You have to go through this archway that’s made of stone, with a curtain of vines that covers the entrance as the door. It’s like a place on its own. We took a dip there, and it’s completely safe, I promise you.”

A dip during this humid weather? The thought of washing away the layer of sweat was rather tempting, if Din was honest. 

“It sounded like you were going inside another dimension.” Din teased.

Luke let his eyebrows shoot up. “What, you think that’d be fairies that are going to kidnap us and steal our names?” 

“You’re talking a lot for a guy who calls himself a magic wizard and moves things with a wave of his hand.”

Luke laughed. “I’m a _Jedi_. That’s completely different because at least, _I’m_ real.”

“Uh-huh. Y’sure about that?”

“You’re looking at the one and only, Djarin.” Luke smirked. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

Din lazily pushed himself off the fence, unable to hold back the smile from stretching across his face any longer. “I’ll see you two before dinner.”

Luke waved him away, already tugging on more carrots. “Have fun.”

It took Din a while, because he hadn’t realised the long distance that separated the temple and creek until he was _walking_ there instead of running and flying his way over, but he got there, all the same. He had to push through some shrubs that thickened the longer he walked deeper into the forest, an ear out to make sure there wasn’t anything that could possibly attack him unawares. 

The archway entrance was exactly the way Luke described it; there was a curtain of long weeds that touched the ground, thick enough that Din wasn’t able to see what the other side held other than what was told to him. He could hear the sound of water crashing against the water surface, so he must be where he should be.

Din pushed away the weeds and stepped through the entrance. The archway wasn’t that huge, small enough that Din had to duck down to avoid bumping into the stone, and then he was in this awkward position of having to bend his knees slightly to make his way through.

What came out at the other end of the archway was something entirely unassuming.

The water was blue, that was the first thing he noticed. Bluer than he thought any water would be, or any lake for that matter, and big enough that he was able to see how clear it was when it wasn’t disturbed by the waterfall some feet away. He could pick out every stone and twig resting peacefully on the riverbed, and how deep its depth went. 

It looked like he stepped into a big bowl from the way stone walls reached up to the skies. A twenty feet length of space existed between them and the pebbled shore, and even then it was full of tall trees. 

Stepping forward, the sound of the waterfall was louder here, creating a choir with the whisper birds that sat higher up in the trees’ branches. The sharp tang of dirt and moisture wafted around the air, and the greenery that grew near the foot of the waterfall was lush and full of life.

Din was right; with how secluded the place was, and how nature was high in its prime at this particular spot, he might as well entered another dimension.

He found himself walking around at first, searching for anything alive that might be near and within range. He completed his little pace around the small clearing with no such luck, and that was when he felt himself relaxed.

He found a spot where a fallen tree could be used as a bench, just near the waterfall. Reaching up, Din unpressurised his helmet and tugged it off.

He inhaled the clean air deeply, closing his eyes; there was no dusty air, no overcrowded spaces that had him pushed against someone else, no musty body smell that he had to endure. There were no probing eyes on him, no whispers behind his back.

He was alone.

There was no rush in peeling off the rest of his armour, the first feeling of anticipation flickering in his chest the longer he took in the way the waterfall splashed into the body of water underneath. Din had kicked off his pants, already shirtless, and had only left him in his boxer shorts, before he started for the lake.

The water wasn’t even that cold, just chilly enough that it was a refreshing contrast against his clammy skin, and he walked in deeper until the water stopped to his waist.

Then, he dove.

He swam a few laps, twisting around in the water as if he was a creature in its home. He even sat down at the very bottom of the lake with his legs folded, and it was long enough to make him gasp for breath the moment he breached the surface.

It had him laughing a little, wiping a hand over his face to get rid of excess water, experiencing the way his body buzzed at the feeling of being so _free_ , so _uncaring_. After a long, long while, he had the time to himself without feeling the lingering guilt.

He sat beneath the waterfall, settling on one of the slippery stones as he let the beat of the water pound on his back. The pressure was almost stinging against his skin, droplets of water prickling against his face, but he couldn’t care. He was enjoying himself.

It felt like hours before Din swam back to the shore, to where his clothes were carelessly left. He pushed his hair off his forehead, wanting to dry himself properly before he made his way back to the temple.

That was when he heard the first snap of a twig. 

Din was already grabbing his blaster when he heard the familiar voice. “Din? Din, I— oh.”

From where he stood, Din had his back facing the archway. It was only luck that this place had one entrance, and so no one could see him. No one could see his face. He was still clutching onto his blaster, breathing heavily through his nose when the temperature around him suddenly dropped, and goosebumps erupted on his skin. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I—“ Luke stopped himself, guilt a palpable thing in his voice, before there was a crunch of stones. “I turned around. I didn’t see your face and I’m looking away.”

Din released a breath through gritted teeth. He peeked around his shoulder and sure enough, Luke was facing the entrance, his back facing him fully.

Din took that moment to quickly dress, hastily pulling onto his clothes when they got stuck to his still wet skin. Once he at least had his undershirt and pants, he slipped on his helmet. He dropped himself on the log and started to put on his chest plate. “It’s okay now.”

Luke turned around, movements slow. His guilt was still obvious on his face. “I should’ve warned you that I was coming.”

Din slipped on one of his pauldrons, meeting his eye. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Luke had already taken off his poncho and his hat, leaving him in his normal dark clothes. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more careful next time.”

Din slipped on his boots, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “It’s fine, it was an accident.”

“Still,” Luke began, before he stopped himself, pursing his lips. Din tried not to look at that when he wore his cape. “I did the same thing when I first found this place. Swam around for a while. I should’ve known that you would’ve done the same thing.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Din stood up, putting his blaster back in place. “I’m fine, Luke. It was a mistake.”

Luke looked doubtful at first, before he accepted his dismissal with a nod. Then, he turned towards the waterfall. “This place is beautiful, though.”

Din stood beside him, watching the same scene he was. “It is,” Then, he turned to face Luke. “Were you looking for me? Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. Nothing that you should be alarmed with,” Luke assured him, and he was _still_ feeling bad about what he did to Din — it was so obvious in the way he offered a twitch of a smile. “Grogu and I were finished with our harvest when he mentioned that you’re an excellent cook. Said something about wanting to taste your cooking again.”

Din felt a flush of embarrassment all of a sudden. “I’m a decent cook, not,” He made a face. “Not _excellent._ ”

“Grogu doesn’t seem to think so,” Luke’s smile turned more genuine at this. “I offered to look for you when he was becoming adamant that he wants _you_ to cook dinner tonight, and honestly?” There was a twinge of their earlier banter making a show. “I’m all for some Mandalorian cuisine.”

“It’s just meat and vegetables,” Din muttered, making Luke let out a chuckle that had his neck grow hotter. 

Din shifted in place; his clothes were soaked after his rush to wear them, and it was starting to get uncomfortable from where they were clinging to his skin. “Alright,” he conceded with a sigh. “If that little womp rat wants me to cook him something, I’m gonna do a whole feast just for that.”

“Sounds exciting,” Luke snickered, turning around to leave.

“And you’re gonna help,” Din added, following him through the archway. 

Luke looked over his shoulder to meet his eye, eyebrow cocked up. “Oh, really?”

“I did say I’m gonna do a feast. Three courses, _at least._ I need all the hands I can get, pal.”

“It sounds like you’re getting ready for war.”

“With the way that kid is eating? We might as well be.”

When they arrived at the temple, Grogu was already waiting for them in the kitchen. Apparently, he was helping Dooba wash the vegetables from where he was seated on the counter, but every once in a while, he slipped a cherry tomato or two into his mouth when he thought no one wasn’t looking. They caught him committing the act just in time.

Din shook his head. “Better get to it. He’ll finish everything now and then we won’t have anything to cook with.”

“He’s always eating,” There was awe in Luke’s voice as he swept forward to catch Grogu just before he tilted into the sink. “Where does he even keep all that food?”

Din snorted. “You gotta ask him that.”

He took off his gloves and his arm brace. And then, he rolled up his sleeves. When he looked up to wash his hands, Luke was staring at his bare arms with a carefully empty look.

Din instantly felt self-conscious, but bulldozed himself through the feeling when he stepped towards the sink. It had him standing beside Luke, close enough that their arms brushed against each other when he reached for some soap. 

It made Luke snap himself out of his reverie, his face pinking before he stepped away with Grogu in his arms to put some space between them. Din tried not to feel too disappointed at the loss.

“So,” Luke began, setting Grogu on the opposite counter. “What are you thinking of making?”

Din wiped down his wet hands. “ _Tiingilar_ , if you have some meat.”

“We have frozen bantha.”

“Good,” Din answered, not noticing the way Luke’s eyes snapped to his arms again when he opened the fridge to access the contents. “I was thinking soup for our appetiser, _tiingilar_ for the main course, and _uj’alayi_ for dessert.”

“I never tried Mandalorian cuisine, so I have no idea what those are. But,” Din looked up, meeting Luke’s bright smile as he rolled up his sleeves, too. “I’m pretty much excited to try them.”

Now, Din hadn’t had a proper kitchen for the longest time, so his cooking skills were passable at best, _good_ when he was really feeling it. Grogu had been exaggerating about his capabilities, and whatever food Din fed him was from the results of him drying some fish and making ration bread some years ago, right before both of them met. 

However, Din was going to meet those expectations, because Luke did say that this was his first time eating Mandalorian food. Din decided he didn’t want to royally screw that up.

The soup was simple enough, and Luke happened to have lentils that they could make use of, so Din decided to roll with that. Once that was bubbling on the stove, Din had Luke be in charge of the dessert while he wrestled with the main course. He was just glad that the pantry had most of the spices that would make this dish earn the crowned of _hetikles_ every Mandalorian had experienced through the time of their lives. Din thought his nose hairs had all but singed off the last time he ate it.

Grogu sat on the same spot Luke left him while Dooba tried to distract him with his training balls; they didn’t want him to come near the stove and stick his hand where he wasn’t supposed to, where he could potentially hurt himself.

“I forgot how sweet the _uj’ayl_ syrup is,” Din commented, supervising the amount of sugar Luke was melting in the pan. Then, he winced. “Grogu’s not gonna sleep early tonight, is he?”

“I’m just glad I’m not handling that, then,” Luke said, happily stirring on the sugar. “If he’s bouncing off the walls, that’s your doing.”

“I know,” Din sighed, chopping some carrots beside him.

“I’m guessing from the way you just minced the meat,” Luka nodded at the bowl sitting in front of Din. “It’s something that gets mixed up with the carrots, tomatoes, and cucumbers you got over there.”

“ _Tiingilar_ is basically a casserole,” Din explained. “Spicy casserole. You’re gonna feel it through your nose and thought someone shot it to hell.”

“Oh man,” Luke laughed. “I can’t _wait_.”

The _tiingilar_ was in the oven, the soup was done, and now Din was helping Luke scrape all the batter of the _uj’alayi_ into a round pan. Luke swiped a finger into the bowl and popped it into his mouth, and Din was left staring at him sucking the excess batter away without an ounce of shame.

“It’s not even baked yet and I know this cake is gonna be good,” Luke licked some away from his lips, peering into the pan of syrup while Din felt his heart thundering in his chest. “The smell of everything going on in here is making me hungry now.”

“Yeah,” Din managed to choke out, washing the dirty bowl to distract himself.

It was later, when everything was out of the oven, the soup was poured into their respective bowls, that they finally managed to sit down. The cake was left cooling a bit at the kitchen, and Din felt satisfaction growing inside him when he saw the way the food was all spread out across the table.

Grogu dove into his food the moment a plate was slid in front of him, not caring that the _tiingilar_ was only slightly spicy than his usual meals, even if Din tempered it down enough that it wouldn’t give him a stomach ache. 

Din was unable to look away when Luke took his first bite, whose eyes lit up the moment the taste burst inside his mouth. A low groan of appreciation escaped, and Din felt his collar heat up at the sound, where he made himself focus on his own plate.

“That’s _amazing,_ ” Luke pointed his spoon at him. “You’ve outdone yourself. Grogu was right, you are good at this.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Din said dryly, but he couldn’t help himself from preening underneath his armour when Luke took another big bite. “This kid’s appetite is ten times more than both of us have combined. I learned ways to get creative.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Luke answered. “But you’re always moving around, so I didn’t expect—“ Then, when he realised where his sentence was going, he cut himself off, a flush rising to his cheeks as he looked down at his food. “Nothing.”

“What?” Din questioned, amused. He leaned forward and tried to catch Luke’s eye, who had his head hanging over his plate, face still red. “You didn’t expect what? That I’d make something so damn delicious?”

“Eat up,” Luke retorted, and Din laughed in his face.

When the _uj’alayi_ came out, Grogu cheered when Luke did the honours of pouring the syrup all over the cake, and the thing actually _glistened_ under the light. Sure enough, it was as sweet as Din feared, and he helplessly watched the way Grogu inhaled his piece in record time.

Din tilted his helmet back just enough that his mouth was bare, stuffed himself a piece of cake, and let the helmet drop again.

It had been like that since he started eating.

When the plates were cleared, and miraculously, Grogu was sound asleep against Din, he realised how the warmth in his chest stayed as a hearth throughout the whole night.

He brushed a hand over Grogu’s head, who sighed softly in his sleep. He was content, Din realised. He never thought he’d be this fulfilled, after the pains he went through.

He stood up, cradling Grogu to his chest while Dooba started cleaning up the dishes. Luke stepped beside Din, looking down at Grogu with a soft smile on his face. “He’s all wiped out.”

“Yeah,” Din murmured back. “I’ll get him to bed.”

Just when he was about to turn away, he felt a hand clasped onto his shoulder, stopping him from moving another step.

The hand was a brand that burned through his shirt when he met Luke’s eyes, who still held that same soft look he usually reserved for Grogu. “Thank you,” he uttered out softly. “For this.”

Din nodded, heart pounding. “You’re welcome.”

Luke offered him another smile, giving him one last squeeze of his shoulder, before he slid his hand down his arm as he turned to help Dooba with the dishes. 

Din had to make sure he was breathing normally, because they were beginning to feel too short for his own good. He whirled around and made his way out of the mass while Luke and Dooba clanged around in the kitchen.

The trail of fire that traveled down the length of his arm seeped through the thin walls of his veins and into his blood.

* * *

Something was wrong.

Din couldn’t help but notice the way the air above his skin crackled with something uneasy, and he had to put down the wrench in hand from where he was squatting near his gunship. 

He stood up and looked around, and the hangar was as silent as the first time he walked in earlier, only he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something bad was about to happen. 

He glanced at the door that led outside, contemplating surveying the area, when his commlink beeped. 

Din answered it with a tap of his finger, not looking away from the door. 

“Din.”

There was a slight edge in Luke’s voice, making Din straighten his back to attention. “What happened?”

“A ship landed near here,” Luke answered, and Din was already walking briskly into the temple. “Imperials.” He could hear Grogu’s coo from the other side of the line, and that was one less worry to think about. At least, the kid was there with him. “They’re probably on their way here.” 

“Where are you?” Din demanded, sweeping into the hallway. 

“Councilroom. Artoo is already tightening the security as we speak.”

“I’m on my way. Don’t move.”

Din whirled around when he heard an explosion coming from the hangar.

“Luke—“ he called out frantically into his commlink.

“Breach in the hangar, I know,” Luke breathed out. R2-D2 beeped furiously in the background. “Someone broke through the windows in one of the classrooms. Din. _Din._ Where are you?”

Din was about to reply, but Stormtroopers were already flooding the corridor, blasters up, and they didn’t hesitate to press their triggers the moment they saw him. 

He ducked down, using his arm brace to deflect some of the shots before he ran for cover. Din pressed himself against the wall, hiding behind one of the pillars, and tried to get to Luke. “Luke! Luke, do you copy?”

There wasn’t an immediate reply, and the Stromtroopers were already advancing to where he was. He counted a dozen, all of their armour white and shiny and mocking under the white lights of the temple. They were in formation, open fire without any sign of remorse, trapping and outnumbering him in these trying odds that he was a sitting duck.

Din snarled out a curse, sliding his spear out from his back in one hand and clutching onto his blaster with the other. 

The moment someone was in his line of sight, Din shot out and rammed his spear in the neck of the Stormtrooper before shooting a couple more with his blaster. There were nine of them left, all of them trying to put him down. Din yanked out his spear and ran, quickly turning around the corner as he brought them away from the councilroom. Twisting his upper body around, he blasted more shots, and a couple of them went down.

He tried his commlink again. “ _Luke_ ,” He jerked forward when he was shot on his pauldron, turning around to shoot at them again. “Luke, can you hear me?”

“I’m right here,” came the grunted reply, and Din felt himself relax for a split second before he realised the commotion on Luke's end. The hum of a lightsaber and the screams that came after were dangerously close. “Got a little occupied, sorry.”

“Where’s Grogu?” Din aimed and shot at the Stormtroopers’ way. One went down with a startled exclamation. 

“With me.”

Din sucked in a sharp breath, quickly turning around another corner and shoving himself behind another pillar. He heard the Stormtroopers running by, shouting among themselves to find him. He waited until they were all not within range, before he hissed out, “You brought him with _you?_ ”

“I’d rather have him where I can see him,” Luke replied back crisply. “seeing as we don’t know what they want, but I have a hunch that it’s not me.” 

“They probably want _both_ of you,” Din growled out, seething at the thought. “Just, lemme finish this and I’ll meet you at the councilroom.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Din stepped out of his cover, pulled his arm back, and threw the spear. 

It sank right in the middle of one Stormtrooper’s back. Din didn’t even pause to watch him drop to the floor and began shooting the rest of them, stalking his way forward as he heavily depended on his armour to deflect the shots they were firing on him.

A fist came flying to his head and hit his helmet; which proved to be a stupid and careless mistake on the Trooper’s part since his bones cracked under the collision, making him scream out in pain. Din headbutted him into unconsciousness before elbowing another in the windpipe.

The Stormtrooper choked, tumbling backward, and Din let out a startled yelp when someone rammed his back with a slugthrower that he fell facedown. Another tried to shoot him again, but the shot deflected off his helmet, and Din swung his leg out and kicked one of them down before shooting his blaster at the rest of them. 

He jumped to his feet, hand out to shoot the new batch of Stormtroopers coming his way, when a scream ripped out of his throat when someone used a stun blaster on him and shot him square in the back.

Din gasped, falling to his side when he felt himself losing the feeling of his limbs. He was able to see the Stormtrooper who shot him, holding onto the stun blaster. They were wheezing, and Din realised he probably cracked his windpipe just now before the motherfucker went and shot him. 

Damn it, he should’ve been more careful. Now, he was in this fine mess.

Several newcomers were already pointing their blasters at his head, one pair of feet right in front of his face, and Din still couldn’t move a single muscle from where he was laid out on the floor. With all the beskar wrapped around him, it felt like his armour was stone on his body. He tried moving his fingers, where he could see his blaster just within reach, and if he could just grab it and blast all of them down, that’d be absolutely spectacular.

“Sir, there’s a Mandalorian in the temple,” the one stood near his head reported. Din tried twitching his fingers. 

“ _A Mandalorian?_ ” A voice snapped through their commlink. _“What’s a Mandalorian doing with Luke Skywalker? Did you get rid of him?”_

“He’s down now, sir. But he almost got us just now if BN-333 here didn’t stun him.”

_“Good. Did you find the Child? Skywalker?”_

“Alpha Team hasn’t reported in, sir,” Din let out a small breath of relief. At least, they were safe. They weren’t taken.

 _“Find them,”_ the voice barked out. A general, most likely. _“Something is wrong if Alpha Team hasn’t given out a word. Find Skywalker and the Child, and make sure they’re unconscious. I don’t want them escaping under your nose just because you’re incompetent in your job.”_

“And the Mandalorian, sir?”

 _“Kill him,”_ Din gnashed his teeth together, stretching his fingers out for his blaster. Almost there. _“He’s useless to me.”_

“Beta Group out,” the Stormtropper said and ended the transmission.

Then, they kicked Din in the head. Hard.

It had him flipped to his back, his brain rattling against the walls of his skull. Din groaned when the lights above him began to swim, the faces of the Stormtroopers blending in together from where they looked down at him. The one who kicked him, a commander maybe, stood over him and stepped onto his wrist to pin him down. “Well, Mando, looks like you’re outta luck,” they said, aiming their blaster at his head. “The general might want you dead, but I’m giving you one last chance. Where’s Skywalker and the kid?”

Din kept his mouth shut, and the commander ground harder onto his wrist with the point of their boot. Din swallowed another groan. “I’m not gonna ask you again, Mando. Where is Skywalker?”

Again, he didn’t reply. The commander lowered their blaster and shot at the exposed part of his thigh, just beside the brace. Din had to bite down his tongue, blood bursting in his mouth at how hard he tried not to scream out in blinding pain.

“You’re gonna talk now?” The commander taunted. Din could smell burned cloth and maybe, burned flesh. “Where. Is. Skywalker.”

“Right here.”

Immediately, the weight was lifted off his arm, and Din could hardly hear the way the other Stormtroopers were shouting, not when everything was muffled with pain, his leg burning with a white cold kind of agony that had him gritting his teeth. He looked to the side and saw the commander was thrown at the far end of the corridor, either dead or unconscious. Dead, if the charred hole that sat in the middle of their body said anything.

More went flying off the ground, and Din had to close his eyes when his vision was beginning to tilt upside down. He could still hear the swing of a lightsaber, the blood-curdling screams that came after when it went through someone’s body. Din tried to regulate his own breathing as everything slowly ebbed down. 

He was lucky he was even conscious; the stun should’ve knocked him out. The blaster would’ve been the last resort. He didn't know what entity was looking out for him, but he must be pretty lucky to earn such attention.

It was minutes before silence took over, and Din could feel someone fleetingly let their fingers run over his shoulder. “Din,” Luke murmured out. “Din, can you hear me?”

Din managed a grunt of affirmation, and Luke let out a relieved sigh. “Where are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Din pushed out in a pinched voice. He was _not_ fine. “It’s just a stun gun.”

“It was obviously not just a stun gun,” Luke was staring at his thigh, eyes filled with worry. “You were shot, Din.”

In his muddy haze of pain, Din forgot about Grogu, and grabbed onto Luke’s arm. “Where’s Grogu?”

“Right here,” Luke soothed him, twisting around to show him. Grogu was swaddled protectively in the handmade sling on his back, and wide dark eyes peered at Din, his ears lowered in what he knew was concern.

“Hey, kid,” Din rasped out. “You had fun back there?”

Grogu let out a mournful sound, reaching out a tiny hand for him.

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” Din tried to assure him, and that made Luke turn back around to face him, his mouth set in a straight line.

“I’m getting you to the infirmary,” he declared, slipping an arm around his back and carefully lifting him off the ground, mindful of his injury.

Din couldn’t help the low groan from slipping past his mouth, and thinned his lips together when his thigh throbbed with protest. He clutched onto Luke’s waist, trying to hold in the pained sounds that threatened to escape.

Grogu patted his arm in consolation, cooing sadly at him. Din reached forward to let his helmeted forehead tap against Grogu, who cooed again.

That only had him leaning more against Luke though, and Din didn’t have it in himself to be embarrassed when he only slumped against him, far too tired all of a sudden. Luke only held onto him tighter.

“There could be more,” Din managed through heaving breaths, wobbling their way around the dead bodies. “Their ship.”

“We need to take you to the infirmary first,” Luke countered, and the walk down the corridor looked so far now. “You could barely walk, and you’re clearly in pain.”

“I’m fine—“

“I let go of you now, and you’ll fall to the ground,” Luke stated, the threat underlining his words. He tightened his hold around his ribs, silently pleading with Din by giving his hand a squeeze. “We’ll look into your leg first and then I’ll check out the ship.”

Din watched Luke jabbed a finger onto the lift button, before stepping into it the moment the doors opened.

Din collapsed against the wall, his breath huffing within his helmet while Luke still held onto him. 

Then, they were out, and Luke gave a soft, “We’re almost there.” into his ear before they stepped into the infirmary. Dooba was already there, waiting for them. Luke set Din down on one of the cots, trying to be gentle when everything hurt, and his nerves were all but fried after the stun blaster hit him.

Luke pushed him down by the shoulder, forcing Din to incline fully. “It looks like you’d have to cauterize it,” Luke noted, looking at the wound from where it bled. “Dooba would help you for now, and then we’ll have to put you in a bacta tank so that you’d heal faster.”

“I’m fine,” Din tried to argue, but even that sounded weak to his ears, especially when he couldn’t even sit up on his own even if he tried.

Luke saw that. He reached back and took Grogu off his sling, where he settled the kid on the cot with Din. Grogu sat beside his head, and gently patted the side of his helmet with a small hum.

Din turned his head to meet his wide eyes. “I’m fine, kid.”

“He knows you’re lying,” Luke told him softly. 

Din clenched his jaw. Right. Grogu could feel his pain.

“I’ll _be_ fine,” Din conceded, and Grogu patted his helmet again.

Luke squeezed his shoulder. “I’m gonna check out their ship. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Before Din could say another word, Luke stood up and stalked out of the room, leaving Din with Grogu and Dooba.

The Attendant Droid walked to his side. “I would have to take off your leg brace and cut your trousers to see your wound, sir. I would like your permission before I start.”

Din sighed heavily. It wasn’t as if he had a say in it. “Alright.”

Dooba only cut a piece of his pants to have a look, and Din could feel the way his blood gushed down the side of his leg and was soaking the thin mattress underneath him. “As Master Skywalker’s request, I will cauterize you. Then, you will find yourself in the bacta tank.”

Being in the bacta tank meant that he would have to take off his helmet, and he couldn’t do that. For some reason, the thought of taking it off after a close call with death made his heart pound in his ears. 

He grabbed the droid’s arm, stopping her from pressing the field cauterizer against his open wound. “I can’t go into the bacta tank.”

“Sir, you are in serious pain. The blaster should have killed you, and while it is lucky you are still alive, we do not want to risk your organs failing on you. We have to put you in the bacta tank.”

“I can’t,” Din choked out, gripping her arm tighter. “I can’t do that.”

“Sir, you would die.”

Grogu was looking at him, unblinking, still holding onto his face, and Din let out a shuddering breath. “Just cauterize me first.”

There was no stopping the low moan that was ripped out from his throat when Dooba pressed the field cauterizer to his open thigh. 

The smell of burned flesh was unpleasant, and Din was heaving in pants through gritted teeth as he tried very hard to prevent himself from curling into himself.

Vaguely, he noticed Grogu moving away from his place by his head, and it took all his willpower to wrap an arm around the kid and pull him away from his bloody leg. “No, Grogu,” Din rasped out. “You’re not gonna heal me.”

Grogu whined, trying to push away his arm. Din only tightened it around him.

“No, I can’t let you do it,” he almost begged, because he wasn’t going to let Grogu drain himself by healing Din. It wasn’t worth the effort. He couldn’t let Grogu do it. “You need your strength, alright? I’ll be fine.”

Dooba was cleaning and disinfecting the wound with careful dabs of the cloth. It wasn’t until minutes later, Dooba throwing the stained cotton into the bin, that Luke walked through the doors, the tight expression on his face dissolving when he saw both father and son on the cot.

Din still held Grogu back when he tried to push him away. “I can’t go into the bacta tank.”

Luke stopped beside his cot, surprised. “You lost a lot of blood, Din. And you were shot, and you _survived_. You need the bacta tank to help you heal faster.”

“I can’t,” Din said again. “I— my helmet, I—“

Din closed his eyes, swallowing dryly. There was guilt hanging onto his soul and it was eating him from the inside out. He didn’t know how to stop it. “I can’t do that.”

Grogu took that moment to slip from his grasp and pushed himself to sit near his wound. Din reached for him, and groaned when a fork of pain shot up his side. He let his hand drop beside him. “Grogu,” he called out weakly. “Don’t.”

Luke was quick to carry Grogu off the cot, which earned him another whine as Grogu reached for Din. He only looked helplessly at both of them.

Luke was quiet for a while, lost in thought. Then, he met Din’s eye. “I’ll heal you.”

Din released a breath. “Luke—“

“If you don’t want to go inside the bacta tank, then it’s fine. But I’d have to heal you, or you wouldn’t even survive the night,” Luke set Grogu down beside Din’s head again, all while holding his gaze through the visor between them. “You have to pick one, Din. I’m not going to make you suffer when you’re already in so much pain as it is.”

Din swallowed, already knowing which one he’d pick. But, he hated it. He hated that he was such an inconvenience to everyone else right then. “I pick you.”

Luke gave him a smile, and the warmth of it seeped into his bones and stayed there. “Good choice.”

Luke settled himself on his side, assessing the wound properly. Din inhaled a breath. “Was there anyone on the ship?”

“No,” Luke replied, putting a hand over his bloody leg, and Din tried not to make a sound when it stung sharp under his touch. “The pilots went out when they realised none of their groups answered their call. It turns out they were the same people I knocked out when I was on the way to their ship.” He looked up, and his expression softened. “This won’t hurt, but it’ll feel weird for a bit.”

Din nodded, and Luke started to heal him.

It did feel weird for a while — Din could feel his skin tingle underneath the gentle press of his palm, and he had to guess that his leg was knitting itself back together with Luke’s help. Luke himself had his eyes closed, concentrating hard, while Grogu remained seated beside Din’s head and watched his master do the work.

Little by little, his leg didn’t feel like it was on fire anymore, and Din found himself sinking deeper into the mattress of the cot as the warm feeling spread throughout his whole body. It was comforting, far better than when he got himself shot with a stun blaster or in the thigh. 

The deed was done when Luke fluttered his eyes open. He gave a slow blink, and then he straightened himself up from where he had his head bowed, retracting his arm. “There,” he murmured. “It’s done.”

Din tried to sit up to have a closer look, but Luke stopped him with a hand on his chest. It didn’t take much for him to push him back down again. “Rest. You need it.”

Din licked his dry lips, turning his head to face Luke fully. “Thank you,” he said, putting all his emotions in it and hoped Luke was able to pick it up because he really was thankful. Luke shouldn’t have offered to heal him, it wasn’t his place. But, he did it all the same, and Din was utterly, and eternally grateful. 

Luke reached up and squeezed his shoulder again. “You’re welcome. I suggest you stay here for the night. Change out of your armour and into something more comfortable. You need your rest.”

“No, really, I—“ Din stopped himself, and there was no resistance when he reached up and circled his fingers around Luke’s wrist, and gave him a squeeze of his own. “ _Thank you_.”

Luke let out a breathless laugh, ducking his head. “You’re worth the effort.”

Din felt his breath stuck in his chest. Luke seemed to realise what he said when he took a step back, cheeks pink, all while pulling his hand away from that his touch still tingled on Din’s palm. “Rest,” Luke said again. “I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

“What about the bodies?”

“I’ll take care of that.” 

“Their ship.”

“Din.”

“I’m healed now,” Din continued, but he made no attempt to sit up again. “I can help.”

“ _Rest._ ” Luke shook his head. “You need it.”

Din waved a hand in his way. “So do you.”

“I wasn’t the one who got stunned _and_ shot,” Luke pointed out, raising an eyebrow. 

Din couldn’t help but let out the chuckles, curling his arm around Grogu when he snuggled deeper against him, as if he was reinforcing Luke’s command. “Fair enough.”

Luke gave a single nod, and started to walk away to give them space, Dooba already out of the door. But then, he stopped, right in the middle of the infirmary, and turned his body to the side so that he could see Din. 

Din held his breath.

Luke rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’d do it again, you know. Heal you, I mean. Make sure you’re not always hurting yourself.”

Din exhaled quietly. “You shouldn’t have to.”

“No,” Luke gave him a small smile. “But, I want to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Tiingilar_ : Tiingilar was an intensely spicy casserole made by members of the Mandalorian culture, using a blend of meat, vegetables, and potent spices. Tiingilar's spices gave the dish a pungent scent, enough to burn an individual's nasal passages. Prized by Mandalorians, it was one of four qualities sought after in Mandalorian cooking, and made tiingilar a favored dish of many Mandalorians.
> 
>  _Uj'alayi_ : Or “uj cake” when translated from the Mando'a language into Galactic Basic Standard, was a traditional Mandalorian dessert. A flat, dense, and sticky cake, uj'alayi was made using crushed nuts, dried fruits, and a sweet spiced syrup known as uj'ayl. A favorite among Mandalorian soldiers, the extremely sweet-tasting uj cake was a mainstay dessert at Mandalorian meals and get-togethers.
> 
>  _Uj'ayl_ : A sticky, sweet Mandalorian syrup. Used in Mandalorian cooking, the scented uj'ayl syrup was most commonly used as an ingredient in the creation of uj'alayi, a flat, dense cake.
> 
>  _Hetikles_ : "Noseburn," when translated from the Mando'a language to Galactic Basic Standard.


	4. Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Not much fun in burying the dead, I’m afraid.”
> 
> Din tilted his head to the side. “Would it make you feel better that they tried to kill you first?”
> 
> Luke tilted his head back at him. “Not as much as I like it to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’re in for a treat, this is where it starts to get _steamy_.
> 
> I am so sorry this took so long, life got in the way that I couldn’t even get to update this as soon as I wanted to.
> 
> And, you’d have to forgive me if I made any mistakes because I’m new here, and so some phrases escape me because they don’t make any damn sense. Like why the hell is a bathroom called a refresher when you can just call it a bathroom? And a _transparisteel_ , like _really_ , just say glass.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

_noun_. the absence of light in a place. 

  
  
  


There wasn’t a scar.

He didn’t look like he was shot. Which was absurd, because Din pretty much remembered the way his leg felt like it was going to fall off. 

It didn’t unnerve Din as much as he thought it would from where he stood in front of the mirror of his refresher, only in his undershirt and boxer shorts, as he found himself tracing the smooth surface of his skin with his fingertips. There wasn’t even any blemishes or broken skin that he should be worried about; it was too perfect, and he couldn’t stop staring at it in wonder.

He dropped his hand, and caught his own eyes in his reflection.

Despite Luke’s insistence in telling Din to get some sleep, he had gotten a handful of four hours before he found himself jerking awake. He hadn’t even realised he passed out until he was blinking at the ceiling. The infirmary lights glared down on him from where he was still on the cot, the chill of the air ventilation caressed his bared leg after Dooba cut a space on his pants to check his wound. 

Grogu was still snuggled at the crooked part of his arm, sound asleep with a hand resting on his chest plate, as if he was afraid Din was going to leave him anytime soon.

His body had felt stiff when he tried to move, careful in manoeuvring Grogu around in his hold as he pushed himself up and off the cot, swallowing a groan with a little more effort than he’d like.

With a glance at his chronometer, it was still at least an hour away from dawn, and Din figured he should clean himself up and get himself rid of his armour for a while. 

He left the deafeningly quiet room, briefly wondering where Luke was.

Din had dropped Grogu off to his room, tucking him in his kid-size bed and pulled the covers over his body. The kid didn’t even stir when Din brushed a thumb over his forehead, affection welling up in his chest, before he straightened himself up.

He couldn’t keep the grimace that took over his face when his back felt like it was going to break into two, and left Grogu’s room to make his way to his own.

Looking at his face now, the same dark rings under his eyes looked even more prominent than before, Din figured he should grab a few more hours of sleep before he faced the day. He knew that was essential. He knew his body would appreciate it.

But, after everything he went through, he couldn’t find himself to lay down again when his nerves buzzed under his skin after last night’s events.

He thought of those blue eyes. He felt the burn of a touch that seared through his palm when Luke gave him a squeeze of assurance, telling him that he had Din’s back, that he was going to make sure he was alright as they limped through the temple that was littered with dead bodies.

It lingered on top of his skin, the knowledge of his touch apparent and bright and Din couldn’t bring himself to deny its presence just yet — it was a comfort he had came to be familiar with during his stay on Yavin 4, and he liked having it there, with him, where he could just reach out and inquired it with a brush of his finger.

It had— it had _slotted_ itself into his life, making a home within him. It fitted into him as it chose to be there, as if it was _supposed_ to be there.

And Din realised he wanted to let it be.

He shook his head, before he reached forward to cup running water and splashed it against his face. It was forcing him to go through this mangled routine, and brushed his teeth. He decided a shower would wash away this stale air that hung onto him, this revelation he planned to keep quietly to himself, before he had to go out and see if there was anything that he should do and help to clean up.

Once he was dressed up in his armour again, donning another pair of his pants, sunlight was beginning to reach across the atmosphere. The dewy air of the morning hung in the corridors as he made his way to the hangar, seeping in through the Imp-shaped destruction that sat in the middle of the wall.

He sent a quick message to the droids to look after Grogu while he was gone, hoping that nothing else was going to happen soon.

Din picked his way through the rubble, noting how the dead bodies he had been sure he left there was nowhere to be seen. The hangar was dim when he let his eyes jump around the space, the sound of life awakening with the day when bugs and whisper birds let out their shrill greetings.

When he stepped out to the clearing, there was smoke coming from the right, bellowing and thick, at least six miles away. Something gripped onto his chest at that, and Din made his way to that direction, making sure his weapons were in place. But, he had a feeling there wasn’t anything that would have him draw them out, not after Luke told him that he had taken care of what needed to be done. He trusted him; only Din liked to be safe than sorry.

When he arrived at his destination, the fire was reaching to the skies with a curl that raged red and bright, burning what could only be explained as Stormtrooper armour from where they were all piled up in one large pile. They were already melting, the white shells disfiguring and pooling to the ground. There were more than two dozen, he knew — a whole platoon sent to take Luke and Grogu, and now all of them dead.

The Jedi himself was a few ways away from the burning pyre, handling a shovel with gripping hands as he dug down into the ground. He had shed his tunic, leaving him in his tank top, and he was so focused on his work that Din almost believed Luke didn’t notice him standing by the tree to take in the scene in front of him.

There was a line of bodies behind Luke, strips of clothes wrapped around their eyes, their wrists, and their ankles. Some of them had a distinctive hole in their chest. Some had slashed burns that ran by their sides. Din noticed how one head was detached from its body.

He stepped forward, not exactly bothering to be quiet. Luke didn’t stop digging when he acknowledged him. “I thought you’d be resting.”

“And miss out all the fun?” Din stood beside him, looking down at the bodies. He was wrong. There two heads detached from their bodies.

Luke let out a breathless chuckle, straightening up to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand. The pyre made the sweat on his arms glisten under the glow. “Not much fun in burying the dead, I’m afraid.”

Din tilted his head to the side. “Would it make you feel better that they tried to kill you first?”

Luke tilted his head back at him. “Not as much as I like it to be.”

He looked human like this. It shouldn’t surprise Din — Luke _was_ human, after all. But the title he carried had been embodied in this person so much that all traits that made one human seemed to diminish with time. _The Jedi,_ people would whisper in amazement or fear, as if that alone held power to the threads of the universe, as if _Jedi_ was a magic word that should install some sort of emotions in someone.

He supposed it would, it _had_ , after everything the Jedi did in the past. They were a powerful species, who made sure everyone knew what they were, and just exactly what they were capable of.

Their impact was enough that most residents of the galaxies knew what a Jedi was, right until to the last one that stood in front of him — and even then, everyone thought Luke was a walking myth between the universe, an entity they should be wary of at all times.

Right now, though.

Right now, with his hands and boots stained with dirt, his hair damp and matted to his forehead, Luke was only human. It was also in the heavy lines that tracked around his face, the tired quirk of his mouth. He may have carried the history of his people on his shoulders, had witnessed so many things through his eyes during the time he fought with the Rebellion, but there was one thing that remained true; it shone through the glimmering walls he put up between what the galaxy saw and himself, and it said he was what he was.

Luke Skywalker was still painfully, excruciatingly _human_.

Din looked over to where the speeder was parked somewhere near a bush, a cargo carrier attached at the back. “You’ve been going on with this since just now, haven’t you?”

“I figured I cleaned up a bit,” Luke admitted, staring down at the long hole that he dug up. “I probably would have burned them, like I did with their armour, but,” He shrugged. “I needed my hands to move.”

Din understood that. Sometimes, the adrenaline that came after killing a whole army didn’t exactly go away, morphing it into something listless, even after everything settled around them. If he didn’t do anything to occupy his still buzzing thoughts, he’d be jumping in his own skin.

“Is there another one of those?” He asked, nodding to the shovel Luke was holding onto.

Luke arched an eyebrow. “You just got shot.”

“And I’m better now, thanks to you,” Din answered back, deciding to make his way to the cargo carrier. Sure enough, there was an extra shovel, and he took it with him when he walked back to where Luke was.

“Did you even sleep?” Luke questioned, watching Din when he stood on the opposite of the hole, making no move to stop him. 

Then, Din drove the shovel into the ground. “Yeah.”

“That can’t be enough, after everything you went through.”

Din dug out the dirt. “It was enough for me.”

Luke was quiet for a while, the sound of Din working his way through the ground and the cackling fire alive at the edges of their peripheral vision trickling into the space between them. It wasn’t until Luke picked up where he left off, and both of them slipped into a companionable silence.

They lowered the bodies into the ground and covered them up with the dirt again. By then, the fire had gone down into something smaller, the smoke ebbing out as well. 

They leaned against the carrier, sharing a canteen of water between them as they took in the mess in front of them. Din took a swing of the drink, licked his lips, and dropped the helmet back down. “What did you do to their ship?” 

“I shut down any tracking system in it. Took something of theirs to see if there’s anything else that I should be worried about,” Luke dug through his pants pockets and took out a data stick. “This moon was supposed to be remote. It’s the reason why I wanted to revive the temple back. If those bucketheads were able to find me, someone knows we’re here.” 

“Could there be something hidden that you weren’t able to pluck out?” Din wondered out loud, accepting the data stick when Luke passed it to him. “Something very carefully concealed?”

“I wouldn’t like to think so, since Artoo made sure he overrode everything before we settled here properly. I wanted everything to be safe before we even think of stepping foot here again,” Luke watched Din roll the data stick between his fingers, face somber. “Now, we’re at risk. All because I was so sure I was being thorough.”

“It can’t be your fault,” Din told him gently, but Luke shook his head.

“The temple is already infiltrated. After this group arrived, there’s a high chance that another would be coming the moment they realise they haven’t gotten any feedback. And I bet they’d be coming in on double now that they know I’m here.” Luke met his visor then, something tight in his face. “I’d have to find another place to train Grogu. He’s not safe here.”

Din looked around, and the forest was lit up with the day, streaks of sunlight slashing through the trees. There was something peaceful about this. “And where would you go?”

“As of now?” Luke sighed. “I don’t know. Somewhere they won’t be able to find us, maybe. But, I can’t bear the fact that I’d have to seclude Grogu from the company of people. He’s only a kid, he needs to be mingling around and have some fun with others.” 

Din passed the data stick back to him. “The way I see it, you’re just protecting him from any harm.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that I’m depriving him of life,” Luke tilted his head to the skies. “That’s not what being a Jedi means.”

“What does being a Jedi mean, then?”

Luke offered a wry smile to the clouds. “Not whatever propaganda the Empire fed everyone.”

“Ah,” Din tilted his head back as well, and the leaves and branches greeted his view. “The heartless child snatcher.”

Luke snorted. “Yes,” he replied dryly. “Just because I’m training Grogu, doesn’t mean he can’t see you, or see anyone else, to live a normal life. We’re not supposed to seclude ourselves away. The Jedi are peacekeepers. We’re _supposed_ to mingle.”

“Then, do it,” Din shrugged when Luke glanced at him. “Live.”

“I wish it was that simple, with everything we’re currently going through now,” Luke sighed again, looking down at the canteen. “Whatever it is, I’d have to figure it out soon.”

Din watched him for a while. “Not effective immediately, I hope. You need to rest. We can figure it out once you get some sleep.”

Luke met his eye, something hopeful in those blues that Din immediately felt himself be pulled into. “You’d help me?”

Din was briefly surprised at the question; surely, after everything they went through, Luke couldn’t possibly think he’d leave them both without offering a hand? 

“Yes,” Din replied easily, because it really was that easy. He wouldn’t know how to handle it in any other way. “I’d help whatever I could to make sure you’re both safe.”

He was graced with one of those soft smiles that had Din holding his breath. The attention he was given ignited the glow in his chest, warming up his whole body. He held it close and tight to himself and didn’t want to let go. 

“Thank you, Din,” Luke murmured, and Din couldn’t do anything else but nod.

“You’re welcome.”

They rode back on the speeder with Luke at the front while Din squeezed in behind him. He held onto his hips while they skimmed back to the temple, the wind zipping past them, and he took that moment to enjoy the presence of someone warm in front of him.

Too soon, they already arrived at the hangar. Din jumped off the speeder while Luke powered down, and he watched the way the Jedi straightened his back from where he had been hunching above the handles, eyeing the rubble caused by the Stormtroopers with a look that Din was far too familiar with when he felt he hadn’t completed his mission.

“You should get some rest,” Din suggested. “Or just sleep, really. You’ve been up for hours.”

“There’s still so much that needs to be done,” Luke said, brows furrowing slightly. “The cleaning, mostly—“

“Your droids can do that.”

“—I have to contact my sister about this,” he continued relentlessly, lifting himself off the speeder and landing on the floor. He was still in his tank top, tunic tied around his waist. “Warn her, maybe. They could get to her, too.”

“Sure, you can do that. Until then, you still need some rest. There’s still some time for you to contact her.” Din stood beside him, cupping his elbow that had Luke snapping his gaze at him. Din swallowed dryly at the sharpness it held, before he nudged him into the temple. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

“Is this payback for just now?” Luke asked, amused, as he let himself be herded out of the hangar like a pack of nerfs. “After I made you sleep because you were shot?”

“That’s different.”

“No, you’re right. That’s because _I_ wasn’t shot.”

“No, you _were_ shot at. Only you didn’t get hit. _That’s_ different. But, that doesn’t mean you have to run yourself to the ground just because you can.”

“I wasn’t.”

Din shot him a look as they stepped into the lift.

Luke didn’t even have the gall to be ashamed at the lie, and only shrugged slightly at his judgemental gaze. He didn’t pull away from Din’s touch, and leaned against his side instead. Luke was probably more tired than he let on, if he was asking some comfort without a second thought. “I’ve had worse days. It’s not like I haven’t done an all-nighter before to clean up some Empire mess.”

“Maybe,” Din didn’t mind the close distance between them, content in simply touching him from where he stood. “But, you’re still going to bed.”

Luke rolled out a lazy smile. “Yessir.”

Din let out a light snort as the doors slid open, giving his elbow a small squeeze before they walked towards Luke’s room.

He let go when Luke tapped onto the panel to open the door, and instead used his shoulder to lean against the wall beside it. “You’re not gonna sneak into the council room or even the control room to talk to your sister, are you?”

“What’s to say I won’t do it with my comms?” Luke challenged brightly, turning around to face him with a grin. 

Din merely held out his hand. “Give it.”

Luke laughed, putting his own hand onto his and gently pushed it down. But, he didn’t immediately pull back, the tip of his fingers brushing against his that Din felt the rush of it tingling around his whole palm, before Luke let it drop to his side. It was intoxicating. “I promise I won’t call her. And I’ll sleep, like you tell me to.”

Din wanted to take his hand and hold it. He pulled the pounding urge back and rearranged his posture to stand properly on his two feet instead. “Good.”

Luke considered him for a while, before he gave Din another smile. “Maybe you need to rest, too.”

“Maybe,” Din agreed, and it was as if none of them wanted to leave, wanted this to stay a little longer before they had to handle what reality was waiting for them in the near future. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” Luke said softly, still smiling at him. “See you soon.”

When the door closed, Din found himself rooted in place for a while. He curled his fingers before stretching them out again, as if he was trying to get some feeling back into his body after that moment of suspension that had left him more untethered than he thought.

He expected being with Luke felt that way, and he thought he was supposed to be used to that.

But, every feeling was a rush, something new and momentous.

Din didn’t know what to do with that.

* * *

“I wanted to call you earlier.”

Luke waved Leia’s apologetic tone away. “We’re fine.”

It was several hours later, somewhere in the evening. Din managed to clean what mess he could find and fixed the broken window in one of the classes. He even tracked down the Imperial Lambda that Luke had gone through, and wondered how he had gotten to it so fast when it took Din some time to arrive at the hiding spot. 

He didn’t know how they managed to land on the moon without alerting the temple, but looking around the ship had something heavy settling at the base of his stomach. There was nothing else that indicated who was actually coming after Luke and Grogu, even though Din almost did turn the Lambda Class ship upside down looking for clues, as well as ransacking the system to find anything else that might be useful.

In the end, he took all the weapons and dumped it onto the carrier on his speeder, not wanting them to fall into someone else’s hands if they did happen to drop by. 

He contemplated burning the ship to the ground like what was done with its soldiers, but decided it wasn’t worth his time, and gunned out of the area.

Now, after a somewhat questionable five hour sleep, Luke was refreshed enough to sit at the mass hall with a bowl of noodles Din made for lunch. He hadn’t eaten much, fork twirling around his food when he took out his holoprojector and set it on the table.

Din had watched him call his sister, Grogu indulging his second lunch on the booster seat beside him, as both of them sat at the opposite side of the table and out of sight.

“There was a disturbance in the Force,” Leia said meaningfully, quietly reprimanding him for being so careless with his life. “I know something happened, Luke. What was it?”

Luke sighed, still weary from last night. “The temple was ambushed.”

Leia straightened in her seat. “Are you two alright? Do you need us there?”

“No, we’re fine. We managed to take them down before they could do anything else. It took some time, since a whole platoon of them came in, but,” he quickly added when her lips thinned at the sentence. “We’re fine now.” Luke flickered his gaze up to meet Din’s. “We’re not hurt, I promise.”

“‘We’...” Leia trailed off, and Din felt himself stiffened. “Did you let Grogu fight with you?”

Luke held Din’s visor, asking his permission.

Din tapped his fingers against the surface of the table, before giving him a nod.

“No,” Luke said to Leia, and Din took that as a queue to stand up. “I have Grogu’s father with me.”

“Grogu’s father?” she echoed. 

Luke scooted to the side and made space for Din, who slid beside him until he was able to meet her eye. “Senator Organa,” he greeted.

She blinked, before allowing a polite smile to take over her expression. “You must be Grogu’s father. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Din nodded, and Luke hovered near beside him. “Likewise.”

“I’m sorry if I’m being prompt in this, Mando, but is there anything both of you find from their raid?” Leia looked between them. “A clue to what they want?” 

“The data stick wasn’t able to tell us anything,” Luke told her. “Only the location of the temple and how they had orders to just apprehend us. We tried to dig more, but it looked like anything prior to that was already erased.”

“So, we don’t know who wanted you, and what specific reason they’d want to use you for.”

“Grogu was needed for an experiment some time ago,” Din spoke out, pulling both siblings’ reactions to him, as well as his son from where he lifted his head from his noodles at the mention of his name. “They needed his blood, something about a high M-count they wanted to study. My friends and I destroyed the lab on Nevarro when we could, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they had a few more scattered around out there.”

“What were they doing with Grogu’s blood?” asked Leia with a frown.

“Nothing good, I’m sure,” Din told her airily. “For all we know they could use his blood to make an elite force of their own, from what I saw in that place. There were bodies in tanks, but they died in it before they could operate them fully.”

Luke tightened his jaw. “This almost sounds like the Clones again.”

“There’s something else,” Leia added gravely. “It’s growing from the Empire’s ashes, and it’s not exactly what you call something new.”

Luke sucked in a breath, and Din felt his blood froze in his veins. “Who?”

“Our spies say that something else is growing, and they call themselves the First Order,” she explained. “Ruled under someone called the Supreme Leader. They still have the same roots as the Empire, same goals, and would want to shut down everything that would go against them. They haven’t done anything that says they’re established into a legitimate organisation, or done something that’s obvious enough to catch other people’s attention, but they're _growing_. And that’s what worries me.”

Luke seemed to lose his appetite entirely when he set down his fork. “So, they’re connected, and there’s a possibility that they’re picking that project back up. Make their own elite forces that concern themselves with the Jedi, and use them on anyone who gets in their way.”

“It could be,” she said wearily. “As much as I hate being in the dark and having to only second guess their new motif instead of having a clear cut of it, it’s best to assume the worst with them when they’re already on their way to build another Empire.”

Luke raked his fingers through his hair, and Din felt a pang of sympathy for him. “If they were looking for us, they probably need more DNA and M-count,” Luke was saying. “A fresh batch. Grogu’s wouldn’t have been enough, they would’ve needed me to increase that count and complete the set.”

“It could be that way, yes,” Leia agreed grimly. “Luke, I think it’d be best for you and Grogu to leave Yavin 4. Find another place that’s safe enough for you to be protected.”

Luke held his sister’s gaze. “You want me to stay at Coruscant, do you?”

“If it means I can keep an eye on both of you, then yes, I would want you to.” The persistent look on her face softened. “How about Naboo?”

“Naboo?” Luke arched up his eyebrows. “You want me to open up my school at our mother’s home planet?”

“It’s quieter than Coruscant. The Queen told me that we’re welcome to have our own place to stay whenever we visit, whether it would be in the palace or somewhere at the outskirts. She can arrange that for us.”

“This First Order already has their target on me, I don’t want to burden Naboo with anymore grief after what they went through the past few decades.” Luke gave a wry smile. “Being the Emperor’s hometown can suck ass, apparently.”

“Then, what do you suggest, Luke?” Leia asked. “They know you’re there on Yavin 4. And they know that Mando here is with you. There’s no doubt that they would send more Stormtroopers to barge into that temple. _You_ know this.”

That was what exactly they discussed earlier that morning. Din found himself looking at Luke at then, who met his gaze with a dip of his head. He looked straight into his eyes, a clear path through the visor as if Luke could really see the way they took him in. Din was left holding that deep stare as Luke let his thoughts whizz through his mind, considering the pros and cons.

Din tilted his head slightly at him.

“I’ll tell you when I make up my mind,” Luke finally said, holding his visor for a little longer, before meeting Leia’s gaze. “For now, we’ll be extra careful. If anything happens, we’ll inform you as soon as we can.”

She looked between them, and Din tried not to shift under her carefully blank look. Then, she gave a nod. “Fine. Once you make up your mind, I’ll be sending some help from the New Republic for the cargo, and we’ll be making sure that this transition is quiet. I don’t want any surprises when we’re busy moving you to your new place.”

“Alright,” Luke agreed. “We’ll keep in touch.”

“Make sure that you do.” Leia told him, before she signed off.

Luke looked down at his bowl of noodles, which had gotten cold during the conversation. Even Grogu seemed to pick up on the somber mood that settled around them, staring at his master with a questioning coo.

Din watched Luke half-heartedly picked at his lunch. “What do you plan to do?”

Luke rolled his lips together. “We can’t stay here any longer than we should. Leia wasn’t wrong about Naboo being slightly bearable than Coruscant though, and it’d be an excellent place for me to open the academy if I do decide to settle there.”

“If you don’t mind,” Din began, causing Luke to lift his head. “What do you have against Coruscant?”

“Well,” Luke shrugged. “I have nothing against it personally, but it’s just that I’m so used to seeing a clear sky instead of all those convoluted roads that I prefer being there for anything only absolutely necessary.”

Din studied him. “Is it also because you don’t wanna stay on-world with a bunch of politicians who are up on your ass at every moment of your day to do their chores?”

Luke didn’t bother hiding his smirk as he finally shoved a forkful of noodles into his mouth. 

“I thought so,” Din hummed, causing Luke’s eyes to sparkle with mischief when he glanced at him. “I’ve been to Coruscant twice. Both for business. Hard to get any job done when you have a bunch of cops ready at every corner.”

“Business, huh?” He was glad that Luke didn’t hesitate to take another bite of his food. 

“I had a life before all,” Din waved his hand vaguely around him. “This.”

“Fatherhood?” Luke asked innocently.

Din watched Grogu trying to scratch off the last of the stray noodles from the bottom of his bowl, something warm growing in his chest. “It’s not so bad.”

When he met Luke’s gaze, the smile Din had come to be familiar with made an appearance again. “So,” he began softly, causing Luke to blink out of his reverie. “What now?”

Luke let the question roll around between them for a while. “There’s no choice but to go to Coruscant for now,” he finally said. “It’s temporary, at least. Just to find a place to put whatever stuff we have here. I’m thinking of bringing Grogu along with me to visit the abandoned temples, or to other places I’ve gone to that uses the Force under a different name.” Luke met his look. “You can come with us.”

The offer pinched something in his chest, and Din let his eyes jump around the genuine expression that settled on Luke’s face. “Do you want me to?”

“You know you’re welcome to,” Luke reminded him gently. “You know I don’t mind.”

“I’d just be extra weight,” Din warned him. “I know nothing of the Force to be any useful about the temples. I’d just slow you down.”

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t know much either,” Luke nudged his shoulder against his pauldron. “And you’re not extra luggage, Din. I happen to like your company, you know?”

That had Din blinking at him, before a rush of heat shot up his neck when he swallowed down the stutter of his heart. “You’re so sure about that.”

“More sure than ever,” Luke replied back earnestly, and really, how was Din supposed to handle that kind of genuineness from him?

Din stared at him. “You’re digging your own grave, just so you know.”

The smile grew into a grin. “And I’m gladly sitting in it.”

* * *

The next few days had Din on his toes, just waiting for that moment when the Imperials would make an appearance again.

He studied the skies, almost searching for the first dot of a ship. He was starting to think his paranoia was getting ridiculous, but he had every reason to feel as cautious as he was. It was almost odd that there was no immediate attack from them, but he wasn’t going to jinx that with what little peace they had at the moment, despite how tense it was.

They had started packing what little there was that occupied the Temple; the books, the weapons, the training equipment. The fresh organics in Luke’s garden were properly handled and kept in containers, and the ones that were recently planted were left behind. 

Din made sure his gunship was ready to lift at a moment’s notice, and he was so strung with the feeling of having to attack effectively immediately, that the excess energy that restlessly shook under his skin was used to look into Luke’s X-wing as well. 

Then, he realised he still had more of that energy, and started working on the rest of the abandoned X-wings that sat around the hangar.

Sometimes, Luke popped in to check on him, a mild look of concern on his face. But Din had waved away his worry and continued working on the X-wing that sat dusted for a long time, and said he was fine, and he just needed to work it all out.

Luke had accepted this with a nod and left. Din figured that was going to be the end of it, until Luke came back to the hangar with three of the remote controls cradled to his chest in one arm and his training helmet in another.

Din looked up in curiosity, and Luke showed him one of the small orbs he held. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Din watched him activate the remotes before they started to float mid-air, where they formed a triangle formation in front of the Jedi. “I thought you’d be too advanced for these things.”

Luke shrugged. “I like to work with them sometimes, just to feel the simplicity of it.”

“Well,” Din turned back to the compartment he opened in front of him. “don’t let me stop you.”

Luke wore his helmet, the dark visor drawn down, before switching on his lightsaber that the green blade hummed within the vastly empty hangar they stood in. He twirled his saber around as a warm-up, and one of the remotes took that as a sign to zap at him.

He easily deflected the shot as if he was swatting away a bug, and it wasn’t long before the sounds of him hitting back all of the remotes’ hits echoed in the clearing. 

Din found himself leaning against the X-wing he was working on to watch Luke move across the pavement; Din had seen the way Luke fought before, and he knew how fast and efficient can be in his hits. Looking at his stance properly now, he realised that he fought as if he was chasing time, where he didn’t have much of those at the moment and he was going to utilise them with very fast swings and jabs of his saber to make sure he was hitting where he aimed.

The three remote controls didn’t give him much of a chance in catching his breath, spinning around in several formations while having to relentlessly shoot at their target. Luke maintained his speed and pose, his eyes still covered with the helmet that sat on his head.

Along the way, the Darksaber that was clipped to his hip seemed to reach out to Din, and he could steadily feel the nudge and tug that pricked at the back of his mind that he pulled his attention to the ancient Mandalorian weapon. 

It was as if the Darksaber had realised that it was in the presence of another lightsaber and had wanted to be in use, that it _demanded_ Din to command its hilt and started swinging it against Luke’s own lightsaber. 

Din used a hand to cover the Darksaber, and it gave another wave of meaningful energy that had him pursing his lips.

Dank ferrik. He did _not_ want an old weapon telling him what to do.

Luke’s exercise lasted for forty-five minutes, before Luke decided to stop. With a wave of his hand, the remote controls froze in their places from where it was suspended in front of him. He hardly looked winded when he took off his helmet, with the only exception of his hair being slightly ruffled from being pressed down. He perched the helmet against his hip and gave Din a smile. “I could’ve gone longer, if I wanted to.”

“Why didn’t you?” Din questioned, as Luke shut down all the remote controls and went forward to collect them in his arms.

“Because I wanna ask you to spar with me,” Luke put down the controls on one of the craters near them. Then, he straightened up, cocking an eyebrow at Din. “What do you think? You’re up for it?”

The Darksaber gave another wave of eagerness to him, and even that had Luke snapping his gaze towards it in surprise. “Was that the Darksaber?”

“Yes,” Din sighed, unhooking it from his hip. “It wants me to use it ever since you started waving around your lightsaber.” He locked his jaw. “It’s persistent enough that it’s getting annoying.”

Luke went forward and stood beside him to stare down at the Darksaber. The damned thing was almost _preening_ from the attention of the Jedi. “Do _you_ want to?” 

Din stared down at the Darksaber, something stirring inside his chest. The only other time he had awakened this weapon was when he had Moff Gideon as his prisoner, and even then, he hadn’t exactly used it to its full potential. It was the Moff who truly wielded it last, and it was obvious it was hunger for more action. 

Din rubbed a thumb against the button, before he pushed himself away from the X-wing and into a stand.

Then, he unsheathed the Darksaber.

If blades could laugh, then this one did. The delight it gave out was different from Luke’s lightsaber; it was sharper, in terms of how it rang throughout the hangar. The humming it gave out was almost vibrating against his armour, and Din couldn’t help but take a good look at it as his eyes traced the black blade from bottom up.

He swung the Darksaber around like Luke did to his, and there was power that coursed through it.

When Din looked up, Luke was still staring at the Darksaber with something pensive in his look. But then, he wiped it away before he met his gaze. “You sure about this?”

Din took a deep breath. “Since I’m stuck with it until I find a way to chuck it out, I might as well learn how to properly use it.” He paused. “Only when I’m all out of ammo and this happened to be the last resort, of course.”

“I wouldn’t think it any less,” Luke agreed, but there was a spark of excitement in his eyes as he began backing away to plant some amiable space between them. “Other than Leia, I haven’t had anyone to spar with me using a lightsaber. I mean, don’t get me wrong, people tried to kill me with them all the time, even those who are not Jedi. But, friendly sparring?” He grinned. “I’m wondering how this is gonna go.”

“You’re enjoying this,” Din stated, and Luke winced.

“I didn’t mean to make you comfortable—“ he started, but Din held up a hand.

“You’re not. Please don’t start feeling guilty.”

“You’re clearly not in your zone when you’re holding that,” Luke gestured to the Darksaber. “So, I do feel kinda guilty about,” Then, he waved the space between them. “ _This_.”

“You don’t have to worry about it. I mean when I said that I’m only using this saber when I’m hanging onto the last thread of life. So,” Din swung the Darksaber again, still trying to get used to the weight of it in his hand. “You first.”

Luke took a second longer to regard him, but Din wanted this over with; the same restless feeling from before still lingered on his body as second skin, and he didn’t hesitate to dash forward with a wide arc of the Darksaber above his head.

Luke was quick to parry his attack, and it didn’t take long before he was in the defensive and Din found himself landing more attacks against his lightsaber. 

Every collision when both black and green saber had the air around them shivered with barely held anticipation, even if Din felt awkward in manoeuvring an unfamiliar weapon. There was no art in this fight, where he was mostly more aggressive in trying to get some hits as he shuffled across the clearing with hesitation in his footing.

He knew that Luke was only patient in making sure that he didn’t get hurt, only meeting his advances with minimal effort. His eyes took in every move he made, mentally cataloging what he clumsily delivered that Din was pushing down the self-conscious feeling as time went by.

Luke must have found something he was looking for, because he quickly switched over to the offensive to get the upper hand and became unabated in his hits. Din struggled to catch up, finding himself walking backwards until almost losing his footing when their sabers tangled themselves together. 

Gritting his teeth, Din tried to push him off, but Luke only leaned his weight against their sabers, until he suddenly pounced back, their weapons crackled against the way they were dragged free of each other.

Din stared at him, trying to catch his breath. “Why’d you stop?”

“I’m not,” Luke said. He still looked like he wasn’t tired, making a pang of frustration to shoot up in Din. “You first.”

Din didn’t delay himself before he lurched forward, and Luke was ready to meet him.

This time, Din didn’t hesitate to become rougher, using his whole body to attack as he made himself jerk out from the stilted position he put himself in when handling the Darksaber. It was easier to accommodate his body to the familiar way he usually fought, and he made sure he didn’t pull back his punches.

Finally, he was able to see the strain that showed on Luke’s face the longer they danced around each other. While Din had been inexperienced in handling the intricate movements of his Darksaber, he made it up with the brute force in landing his hits that had Luke stumbling once. The Jedi had to tumble into a barrel roll when Din swung the Darksaber from above, letting the blade slashed against concrete that left behind a long scorched line.

Luke inhaled sharply, staring at the mark. “Damn.”

“You’re holding back,” Din accused breathlessly, snapping his attention back to him. “I saw what you did to those Dark Troopers. This is nothing to you.”

“We’re just training, Din,” Luke reminded him. “And it’s your first try. You’re still learning how to hold the Darksaber.”

“I learn faster by getting hit,” Din settled into position, Darksaber jutted out into defense while one palm was held out to him. “C’mon, Skywalker. Hit me.”

Luke thinned his mouth, but did as he was told when he rushed forward.

Sweat was making his undershirt stick to his back the longer they were fighting in that hangar. It was a miracle they didn’t manage to cut through anything, especially when the fight was slowly escalating into something rougher, one that had Din feel the ache that stretched in his muscles.

The first time Luke finally beat him, Din was half-sprawled on the floor, his Darksaber pointed under his chin while the tip of the green lightsaber sat dangerously close to his shoulder. Bright blue eyes stared down at him, illuminated by that dark glow of his Darksaber, but Din wasn’t going to turn in just yet. “Again.”

“You’re insufferable,” Luke commented sourly, and Din couldn’t help the snort that escaped when they pulled away from each other.

“Again,” he simply repeated, and Luke rolled his eyes as they went into position.

Luke was the one who jerked forward with a slash of his lightsaber, and Din quickly pushed up his and met his hit.

The vibration of their sabers made his bones rattle underneath his armour, and Din bared his teeth out in his helmet as he pushed against Luke’s shove, whose jaw worked against the strain of gaining the upper hand as their arms shook from such tremendous effort.

With a quiet hiss through his clenched teeth, Luke whirled around and released their sabers’ hold from each other again. Din felt his blood sing when the familiar screech of weapons rang shrilly against his ear drums, and like before, when the split second opportunity was given to him, he didn’t hesitate to _move_.

He swiped up, slashed down, and Luke was there to parry those hits with the same staggering blows that had them absorb those collisions with no complaints. They retaliated in their attacks, and Din was beginning to feel giddy from exertion.

Luke was probably feeling the same way, especially when a large grin took over his face as he swiped his lightsaber at his direction, one that Din blocked with his vambrace that had sparks flying off the beskar.

Din twirled his Darksaber forward with his free hand, and Luke was forced to jump back and release his hold against his arm as his lightsaber slid free.

This time, Luke attacked again, and Din felt the shift in the air when he finally, _finally_ gave him what he wanted. There was no mistake how Luke was more reckless in his swings, how he was more inclined to hit wherever his saber could touch when it always scratched against beskar armour. It was different than the first time they started sparring, and Din found himself even having a harder time to catch up.

“ _Kriff_ ,” he muttered under his breath when he felt his arms scream from exhaustion. Sweat dripped down his temple, and he tried to have a better grip of the floor when he always had to move along with Luke’s form. Desperately, Din shot out his arm and activated his flamethrower, causing Luke to jump back to avoid being burned.

He panted, rolling his shoulders as he watched the way Luke straightened himself up. The Jedi was no better than he was, his chest heaving in breaths.

“We’re not done yet,” Din pointed out.

“You _want_ me to hurt you?” Luke scowled, and ran towards him.

He made a swing to the right that Din —who just wanted to _win_ and had been trying for the past hour— made the mistake of falling into his trap and allowed his Darksaber to follow suit, wanting to block the hit.

He didn’t realise what Luke was doing until he jammed his knee against his stomach and hurled both of them to the nearest wall behind him, where they slammed against the hard surface that had Din puffing out in surprise the moment his back started stinging from the hit. 

He blinked. The green lightsaber brushed against the chin of his helmet, and blazing blue eyes glared at him from where they drilled into his visor.

“ _Enough_ ,” Luke growled.

Din could feel himself breathe within the confines of his helmet, the harsh puffs of air no doubt translated through the modulator that sat in it. Luke had pinned him with his whole body, making sure he didn’t move when he had one knee still planted against his hip, an arm digging into his chest plate, and the lightsaber just barely touching his head.

Din still held the Darksaber out to the side, where it hummed low and carried what power fought for centuries. It wasn’t enough to distract the ringing that echoed in the shell of his ears.

“Do you yield?” Luke asked in a low voice, pressing his knee deeper against his hip.

Din sucked in a quiet breath, and sheathed in the Darksaber, plunging them into the loud silence.

“I yield,” he said softly.

Luke exhaled slowly, ducking his head with a close of his eyes. The lightsaber under Din’s chin vanished, but Luke didn’t move away just yet. “What the kriff were you thinking, Din?”

At once, Din was able to realise how dangerously close they were from where they were pressed against one another. There was almost no place that he thought didn’t touch, from how the warmth of his body was almost unbearable against his own. Din swallowed down roughly, tilted his head that the back of his helmet bumped against the wall. “No idea.”

“Whatever it was, it was batshit insane.”

“Don’t tell me to stop you from doing it again,” Din looked at him from his lashes. His fingers suddenly twitched to touch him. “I probably need that again on another good day.”

“Can’t imagine what a horrible day looks like,” Luke shot back, pressing into his chest more to narrow his eyes at him. “If this is your idea of wanting to get your ass kicked, you might as well pick a fight with someone who really wanted to kill you.”

Din curled his fingers into his palm. It was so damn warm under his armour. “Who said anything about wanting to kill me?”

“You did, if the way you wanted me to cut you to pieces said anything,” Luke snapped.

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Kinda hard to, when you’re asking me to hurt you.”

“Like you said,” Din didn’t stop himself when he wrapped his hand around his elbow, and his heart rocketed up his chest when Luke froze, as if he only realised the position they were in. “It was training. People are supposed to get hurt.”

Luke, wide-eyed, let his gaze pierced through his helmet. “Not,” he began quietly. “In the way you’re asking.”

Din licked his dry lips as he continued to stare at him, racing mind cutting through the silence that settled almost suffocatingly around them. But, tentatively, the hand on his elbow trailed up to his shoulder, wanting to test this calm waters when he knew it was anything but within it. 

Luke couldn’t look away, swallowing with difficulty as his eyes jumped around his helmet as if he couldn’t settle for one place, his knuckles white on top of his chest armour.

The air crackled between them, prickling their skin as something built rapidly before they realised what was happening. Din couldn’t help but take in the damp blonde hair sticking to his forehead, at how Luke was frantically trying to hide whatever it was that grew between them under the dim lights of the hangar. 

Din understood, really, and he knew how it felt, because his blood was still howling from the fight, was still calling out to the man in front of him as if it wanted him dip his fingers into the very essence of him that burned hot and true—

Din _knew_. He knew, and he had to— he had to—

“ _Luke_ ,” he rasped out, voice suddenly gone. 

The full body shiver that Luke gave out had Din holding his side tight, all ginger touches thrown out of the window when his ribs heaved solid and warm under his touch. The fist on his chest armour had spread out until his fingertips touched against his collarbone. Din inhaled sharply.

“Close your eyes,” he asked harshly, almost pleading with him.

Luke didn’t need to be told twice. Din was already wrenching off his helmet before he crashed his lips against him.

It had Luke inhale a shuddering breath, and Din couldn’t give a damn where his helmet went when he dropped it to wrap his arms around him, the echoing _thunk_ easily ignored when he pulled him as close as he could when there was hardly any space to begin with.

Nails scratched through his hair, eliciting a loud groan from Din when the feeling electrocuted down the length of his body, lighting him up from the inside when he was already burning through his clothes. 

Luke kissed him harder, letting out a moan of his own, and Din took that moment to plunge his tongue into his mouth and licked the back of his teeth. 

Luke gasped when Din picked him up and whirled them around, switching places that had him pressed to the wall instead. He groaned when Din slotted his knee between his legs, pinning him into place that had Luke wrapping them around his waist.

Din brought his kisses to the angle of his jaw, felt the way Luke buried his hand into his hair as he held on. Din latched his lips onto the skin behind his ear and gave a swift nip with his teeth that had Luke sucking in a sharp breath, before he was lavishing the spot with a broad drag of his tongue that Din moaned lowly at the salty tang of sweat.

“You’re filthy,” Luke chuckled breathlessly, tilting his head to the side to give him more excess to drag his kisses down his neck. “We literally just finished sparring.”

Din couldn’t dignify him with an answer when he brought his mouth up to kiss him again, effectively shutting Luke up when he swallowed the sigh that gusted out.

Din shuddered out a breath when a wandering hand pressed against his tenting pants and, _kirff,_ how was he so hard already?

Luke must be thinking the same thing, because he moved his hips against the thigh Din had shoved under him, and the drag of his own hardness was unmistakable against his thigh.

Din groaned, grabbing his hip to make him stay still that Luke let out a whine of protest.

“ _Din_ ,” he pleaded, gripping onto the exposed part of his arm that wasn’t covered by beskar to the point it hurt. “Din, _please—_ “

“I know, I know,” Din breathed out frantically, capturing his lips again to steal the kiss out of him until Luke was moaning into his mouth, his hips still swivelling against his leg and fuck, _fuck—_

Din dropped his leg to stand properly onto his two feet, hands shaking to rip out his gloves before he reached out and almost snapped the button of Luke’s pants, too. The moment he wrapped a hand around his hard dick, Luke moaned loudly into his mouth as he arched his back, allowing his body to brush against his tented pants.

“Luke,” Din rumbled against the corner of his mouth, fingers sliding up and down the length of his cock.

Luke clutched onto his neck and turned his head to kiss him hard and rough, their teeth colliding in the process, but they didn’t care. They couldn’t bring themselves to care, not when they were in their own little bubble with no one to pry in.

The same wandering hand from before swiftly unbuttoned his own pants before it crept inside the flap. Din gasped when the touch of bare fingers wrapped around his cock, causing him to push his forehead against Luke’s temple.

“Let me—“ Luke started, and Din let go of his length and pressed his palms on the wall behind him, just on either side of his head.

Din watched, breathless, when Luke spit into his palm. There was a bump of fingers against his trail when he began reaching for him — Luke was steering blind, after all, and Din took hold of his hand and guided him to his cock. The moment Luke wrapped his hand around both of them, they groaned, and Din couldn’t stop himself from capturing another kiss just to make himself do something when the man in front of him had him on his wit’s end.

Luke didn’t hesitate to move, jerking them off together as he accepted all the kisses that Din currently planted on his face; it was nipping his bottom lip, swiping his tongue in again to taste him. His now bare hands were finally able to bury themselves into the golden hair that was worthy of songs. 

It was kissing him again, and again, and Luke was working him to the point that pressure was building rapidly at the low part of his abdomen. 

“I’m close,” Din warned him, and almost swallowed his tongue when a thumb swiped over his slit, collecting the pearl of precome against the pad of his finger before Luke smeared it down their lengths.

“Me too,” Luke gasped, hand relentless, and his other gloved hand began creeping between them too, swooping low until he was able to squeeze his bare thigh.

Din choked out another breath when Luke went ahead and cupped his balls, his other hand twisting down their cocks at the same time — Din couldn’t do anything but slot his lips against the lips of his cleft as if he was kissing his mouth and groaned when he came into his fist.

Luke wasn’t far behind, neck arching back as he let out a low whine, and Din picked up his head to steal that noise away with a searing kiss.

Slowly, the sound of their heavy breathing coagulated the air between them, and the hum of the forest from the outside began to trickle into the hangar they stood in. Din let the tip of his nose brush against the apple of his cheek, and Luke was already tucking them back in with shaking fingers, before he wiped their come off against the wall behind him.

 _Maker_ , he hoped no one else would see the stain later.

There was a moment when both of them didn’t dare move a muscle, the severity of what they had done now hanging above their heads. But, just once, Din took a moment to stare at Luke from where he was leaning against the wall, eyes still closed, his neck just inviting him to kiss it again.

The red blotch growing steadily redder near his ear had Din flushing, but he swallowed it down when he reached up to let his thumb press the spot there.

That pulled a violent shudder from Luke, and Din snapped his hand back as if he was burned.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Luke whispered hoarsely, sounding absolutely wrecked. The obstinate lock of his jaw was back again, and for the love that was holy, Din wanted to kiss it away. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“What?” He asked, because even he wanted to know.

Luke opened his mouth, before slamming it shut. 

“I’ll tell you this,” Din cut in quietly before he could continue. “I don’t regret it.”

Luke didn’t say for a second too long, mouth pressed into a straight line. Din felt his heart sinking before he pushed himself away.

But then, a hand latched onto his arm, making him stay in place. 

“I don’t, too,” Luke said in a low voice, and Din couldn’t help but release a small breath. “Never— I’d never regret anything with you.”

Din let the back of his finger graze against his chin before finally untangling himself from Luke, who swallowed audibly at the small touch that it looked like he was making himself hug the wall behind him. Din picked up his fallen helmet and slipped it onto his head. “It’s okay, now.”

Luke blink opened his eyes, and Din was tempted to crowd into his space again. Instead, he continued to pick up where they dropped their sabers, and held out Luke’s to him. “We should get going.”

Luke looked at his lightsaber, before he took it from him, their hands brushing. Din realised he hadn’t worn his gloves and began looking around for them as well. 

“Yeah,” Luke managed out, watching Din slip them on. Then, he met his eyes. “Grogu just woke up from his nap. He’s wondering where we are.”

“Your bond with him telling you that?”

“Yeah,” Luke said again. He let one corner of his mouth jump up, before he made his way towards the insides of the temple. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The news came later in the middle of the night.

Din answered his holoprojector, where Karga's face greeted him with a pressed smile. “Mando.”

“Karga,” he answered, the first touch of uneasiness making an appearance in his chest at the older man’s grim expression. “What happened?”

“A job that I know you won’t turn away,” Karga said. He steepled his fingers on top of his stomach from where he was seated. “Remember that time we took out the old Imperial base when you were here with us?”

“Hard not to,” Din walked towards the window of his room, where the dark night of the forest greeted him. 

“Well, we found another one.”

Din snapped his head at his way. “On Nevarro?”

“No, somewhere else. Out there in the Fakir sector,” Karga pursed his mouth together. “Seems like there are more than we realise.”

Din recalled the conversation he had with Luke and Leia a few days ago, and how he had been right when he said that the Imperials, the First Order, whichever it was that was in charge of this mess, had several bases around the galaxy. It was only a matter of how many, and whether or not they’d manage to stop them in time.

“Where?”

“Palanhi,” Karga answered. “Will you be going?”

He thought of Grogu, at how the Imperials had hurt him when Din had been too late to protect him on Tython, at how utterly tired the kid looked when Din finally did catch up with him. He remembered the anger that coursed through him, the worry that took over his thoughts that he was to make sure Grogu was safe.

He thought of Luke, exhausted but trying his best to remain optimistic, and Din knew he deserved better than this — Luke had already too much going on in his plate, and Din wasn’t going to make him worry anymore than he could when a quick break in and out of an Imperial base is what exactly those bastards needed, what _he_ needed.

He had to go alone. He hoped Luke and Grogu would forgive him for leaving them for a while, but Din planned to come back to them soon.

He nodded. “I’ll be there.”

* * *

Din made sure to land far enough that he won’t be detected.

It was an hour hike to where the base was, and he made sure he was careful even when he crossed through the forest. The trees may not be as thick as Yavin 4 was, but the dark skies were enough for him to conceal his gunship at the thicker part of the mess. He threw over some large boats of leaves on top of it for safety measures, before Din began his journey with his night vision switched on.

The spear was strapped to his back, the Darksaber by his hip, and he was holding onto his blaster when he stepped through the bushes. He was only a couple of klicks away, where he could already see the high grey walls of the base through the trees, when he pushed himself to the nearest bark at the sound of someone walking past him.

“—thing to report, sir,” one Stormtrooper said, a blaster in his hand. His friend stood beside him as they listened to their order from the communication systems embedded in their helmet. “No, sir. Everything is clear.”

“Everything’s been clear ever since we were stationed here last year,” his friend drolled out, no doubt disconnected from the control room. They would get killed if their reporting officer heard that. “And from what the guys who stayed here longer, nothing to report then, too.”

“Can’t be too careful,” said the Stormtrooper. “Y’know how the Rebels are. A bunch of crazy motherfuckers who’d just infiltrate through any base they see just so they could kill us.” He shook his head. “That’s why they’re terrorists.”

“Yeah, but come on,” His friend flapped his hand around them. “They don’t know this place. And if they did, they’d attack it a long time ago, knowing what we’re guarding.”

Din held his breath, sliding out his spear from his back, before slowly and silently stalked his way towards them. 

“Yeah, what’s to say they don’t _now?_ ”

“Look, it’s quiet, alright? There’s nothing here.”

Swiftly, Din stabbed his spear into the Stormtrooper’s neck from behind. Before his friend could even react and break out of his shock, Din tugged the spear out the Stormtrooper’s body and slashed it forward until it sank through the same place of his friend’s neck.

The bodies dropped by his feet. Din dragged them away from the direction of the base and deeper into where he came from. There was a fallen log he passed by just now, and he used that as a hiding place to stuff their bodies into the hollow of the tree. The large ferns on both side of the log concealed most of their folded corpses, and Din let them be before he marched towards the base again.

He tracked around the base to find an alternative entrance that wasn’t the large gates and were stood guard by four more Troopers. Then, he saw a side entrance, one that was also guarded by one of them. Din let his helmet search for any other types of security he should be worried of, only to see there weren’t any cameras that were controlled from the inside.

Good. Which meant there would be less trouble for him.

Din stayed in the shadows as long as he could, itching his way nearer to the door. Just when he was at the edge of the forest, he tightened his grip around the spear and reared his arm back to take aim.

Then, he let it fly, where it sank right in the middle of the Stormtrooper’s chest.

Din jogged forward to retrieve back his spear, and used the Stormtrooper’s access rod to slip into the required panel. The door slid open, and he was glad that the hallways were empty for him to move.

Karga’s blueprint of the base was easy enough to remember, and it wasn’t long before Din hid his way behind nooks and crannies his body could fit behind when he made his way to the lab. Recycling plans seemed to work before, so he just had to plant a bomb in it and leave as fast as he could without having himself blown up with the rest of the crew.

That was if he stayed hidden for the whole time.

The Stormtrooper’s access data rod he swiped from earlier was clutched hard in his palm, and it took him to quickly rush into the lift the moment it was empty to finally arrive at the lab floor.

The moment the door opened, Din was able to pick out two Stormtroopers and an Abednedoian doctor in the room. 

Before they could react at the sight of him, Din shot the two Stormtroopers dead before aiming the barrel of his blaster in the doctor’s face, who immediately lifted his hands in surrender.

“W-what—“ the doctor stammered out.

“Try anything and you’ll get it,” Din warned him, and he took that moment to finally look around.

Across the transparent windows that led to a vast hall, a machine that stood in the middle of the spherical room represented a large tree bark that spanned up to ten feet wide. It was attached to both ceiling and floor, powered by the reactor that ran the base, with little tubes settled inside their respective compartments, several of them littered across the surface of the machine.

Surrounding the machine were several tanks where they should have put the bodies they experimented on. This was where the transaction between what blood they would’ve collected from Grogu to whatever monstrosity the First Order were planning on would’ve taken place.

Only, they were empty. The body tanks looked as if they had their residents recently removed, the leftover blue slime that they were kept in still apparent on the transparisteel surface.

So, they were right. They _were_ trying to make something, and it concerned the Jedi.

Din turned towards the doctor, who shook in his boots when he advanced nearer. “Where are they?”

“Where are who?”

Din jabbed his blaster into the doctor’s chest. “I’m not gonna ask again.”

“W-we moved them,” the doctor pushed out, hands still held up against his sides. 

“Where?”

The doctor swallowed, and Din took another step closer, his blaster now aimed to his face.

“Where?” He repeated in a low voice.

The doctor shook his head frantically, and Din was tempted to shoot the doctor if it wouldn’t alert the rest of the base. Instead, he shot his hand out and wrapped it around the doctor’s neck.

The doctor squawked, trying to pry away the vice grip Din had on him with scratching fingers. “Last time. Don’t make me ask again.”

“Mandalore!” The doctor choked out frantically, tugging on his wrist.

Something cold zapped down his spine as Din stared at him in disbelief, before he shook himself out of it and slammed the doctor against the transparisteel window.

“ _Mandalore?_ ” He growled out, squeezing his throat. The doctor choked again. “That planet is a wasteland. Why would anyone want to set up a lab there?”

“ _Because_ it’s a wasteland!” The doctor wheezed out. “No one would suspect anything from a dead planet, it’s why we use that place!”

“Where in Mandalore?” Din demanded.

“Please, let me go! I told you enough!” The doctor cried out, kicking uselessly against him. 

“Not until you tell me where you’re holding up your lab.”

Din squeezed his neck again, digging the blaster into his stomach for emphasis.

“Ronian!” The doctor squeaked out, eyes getting cloudy from lack of oxygen.

Din let him go, and the doctor dropped into an unceremonious heap at his feet while he gasped for breath. 

He looked out at the large room that kept the tanks. Of all places to make a group of Jedi-powered people, the Imperials chose the worst place Din could have thought of.

Something clicked off the safety of a blaster, and Din didn’t hesitate to shoot at the doctor just when he had aimed his blaster at his way.

The doctor dropped dead. Din stepped away and dug down into one of his compartments for the grenade he kept with him, and began initiating a sequence for the base to blow up. Just because there was a change of plans where he had to find that lab again, it didn’t mean he couldn’t finish this one off.

 _Mandalore_. Fucking piece of shit.


End file.
